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\i  he  ^Mory  of 
A.   Wltke    Slave 


CAN 
SUCH  THINGS  BE? 


A  STORY 
OF  A  WHITE  SLAVE 


By 
WILLIAM      GLEESON 


Chicago,  Illinois,  November  1st,  1915, 

Moved  by  the  generous  approval  the  Story  of  "Vice 
AND  Virtue"  has  received  from  its  numerous  readers,  and 
at  the  solicitation  of  a  number  of  them,  the  Author  of  that 
story  has  been  induced  to  make  another  attempt,  and  place 
before  the  reading  public  a  work  dealing  with  a  subject  of 
grave  moment  to  the  social,  moral,  and  legal  welfare  of  the 
citizens  the  world  over:  the  extensive  barter  and  sale  of 
women  and  girls  for  immoral  purposes  seeming  to  have  no 
geographical  limitations. 

As  has  been  proven  in  our  public  courts,  agencies  in 
New  York  and  others  of  the  large  cities  of  our  country 
have  so  commercialized  the  traffic,  that  they  have  sub- 
agencies  in  every  quarter  of  the  globe. 

The  Story  of  "CAN  SUCH  THINGS  BE?  — THE 
STORY  OF  A  WHITE  SLAVE,"  deals  with  a  local  phase 
of  the  subject,  how  girls  are  first  trapped,  and  then  degraded 
until  they  become  so  despondent,  or  so  callous,  as  to  care 
not  what  becomes  of  them. 

The  Author,  fully  alive  to  the  delicacy  of  dealing  with 
such  a  subject,  has  kept  well  within  matters  of  common 
knowledge,  and  at  the  same  time  tells  a  story  that  may 
interest,  entertain,  and  arouse  the  sympathy  of  his  readers 
for  the  unfortunate  victims,  and  resentment  against  their 
betrayers. 

Hoping  I  have  not  failed  in  my  object,  I  am, 
Very  sincerelv  vours. 

WILLIAM  GLEESON. 
518  So.  Morgan  St. 


COPYRIGHT  APPI.IKD    FOR 


ALL  RIGHTS  RKSERVKD 
»2SC 


AUTHOR  OF 

'Vice  and  Virtue" 

"A  National  Highway" 

"Sunshine  and   Shadow' 


(HantmtB 


Chapter  Page 

1  The  Emigrants 3 

2  Comrades  12 

3  Joy  and  Sorrow 19 

4  The   Parting 23 

5  The  Fatal  Meeting 31 

6  Sold  and  Paid  For 41 

7  The  White  Slave 48 

8  Initiated   55 

9  Anxiety 65 

10  Lost  Beyond  a  Doubt ! 74 

1 1  Resigned    80 

12  The  First  Ward  Democratic  Ball 86 

13  Rebellion    95 

14  A  Quandary    101 

15  A  Conference   IOC) 

16  Rest  For  the  Wearv 112 

17  The  Inevitable   . . .'. 121 

18  The  Invalid .' 128 

19  The  Convalescent    137 

20  Necessity  Knows  No  I  .aw 144 

21  The   Round   Up 151 

22  The  Surprise 158 

23  The  Story   170 

24  The  Oath  182 

25  Baffled 192 

26  Planning 199 

27  The  Search   20^) 

28  Found   221 

2<)     Claimed    231 

30  1  lomc  At  Last 242 

31  An   F.xplanatioti    2n2 

32  A  Tragedy 260 


Chapter  Page 

23     The  Third  Degree 273 

34  The  Triangle    285 

35  Robert  Hill  Takes  a  Vacation 294 

36  Vengeance  301 

37  Mugsy  Has  a  Close  Call 309 

38  Peace  Reigns  in  B 314 


SUuatrattoits 

(By  Florence  A.  Gibson.) 

The  Age  of  Innocence 12 

The  Cadet  at  Work 32 

The  Victim   46 

The  Introduction   62 

The  African  Missionaries 84 

"Bring  Her  Along  Mike  !" 152 

The  Swan  Song 178 

"What  I  Want  Is  Revenge  !" 188 

'T  Am  No  Thief!" 280 

Coram  Non  Jiidice 306 

In  Memoriam  324 


PREFACE 

There  are  two  social  problems  at  the  present  time  to 
wliieh  the  thinking  people  of  this  country  are  giving  con- 
siderable attention : 

One,  the  effects  of  alcoholism  on  the  community;  the 
other,  distinctively  a  moral  one,  namely  prostitution,  and 
the  methods  practiced  in  propagating  it  and  furnishing 
what  might  be  designated  the  raw  material. 

Many  books  have  been  written  on  this  latter  subject, 
especially  on  the  vilest  of  all  methods,  that  of  the  decoys — 
the  cadets  as  they  are  now  named — who  in  the  pursuit  of 
victims  for  the  "White  Slave  traffic  resort  to  every  method 
within  the  conscienceless  ingenuity  of  demons. 

That  no  adequate  punishment  commensurate  with  the 
crime  has  been  allotted  on  conviction,  even  in  the  most 
aggravated  cases,  is  the  opinion  of  the  author,  who  in  this 
story  provides  a  fitting  penalty  for  the  guilty  parties  as  far 
as  the  avenger  could  reach  them. 

It  is  the  aim  of  the  author  to  show  the  manner  by  which 
experts  in  the  profession  first  secure  their  victims  and  the 
helplessness  of  those  once  secure  in  the  toils. 

Many  of  my  readers  may  say  that  the  episode  I  try  to 
portray  is  an  exaggerated  case,  but  when  we  come  to  con- 
sider that  statisticians  assert  that  50,000  girls  are  either  lost, 
stolen  or  strayed  annually  in  America,  and  after  once  lost 
few  are  ever  regained,  and  that  it  takes  5,000  victims  in 
Chicago  alone  to  provide  for  the  wants  of  commercialized 
vice,  the  history  of  Martha  Hill  cannot  be  claimed  as  ex- 
ceptional. 


ii  PREFACE 

The  story  of  "Vice  and  Virtue,"  written  by  the  same 
author,  was  widely  commented  on,  and  served  the  purpose 
intended,  to  expose  and  hold  up  for  condemnation  the 
tough  saloon,  the  grafting  politician,  and,  above  all,  the 
dangers  that  beset  girls  in  attending  dances  organized  by 
hoodlums,  who  had  special  permits  from  the  authorities  to 
sell  liquor  to  the  youths  of  both  sexes  indiscriminately  until 
three  in  the  morning,  so  that  the  men  with  evil  intent  in 
numerous  eases  found  ready  victims  for  their  brutal  desires, 
who  inveigled  the  innocent  girls  into  the  all  night  saloons 
which  abounded  in  close  proximity  to  the  dance  halls,  where 
wine  rooms  furnished  ample  opportunities  for  outrages  to 
be  committed. 

The  reading  of  ''Vice  and  Virtue"  by  many  hundreds 
of  Chicago's  leading  citizens,  both  lay  and  clerical,  has  had 
its  effect ;  and  the  authorities,  awake  to  the  dangers  attend- 
ing such  functions,  are  more  careful  in  granting  permits. 
In  lieu  thereof  they  have  organized  municipal  dances  Avhere 
the  youth  of  our  city  may  indulge  in  terpsichorean  enjoy- 
ment under  proper  control,  and  where  no  intoxicating  stim- 
ulants will  be  permitted. 

In  dealing  with  the  subject  of  Vice,  the  difficulty  con- 
fronts the  author  of  how  specific  he  can  be  without  over- 
stepping the  liounds  of  i)rudence,  M-hich,  if  done,  may  give 
offense  to  sensitive  readers,  or  excite  the  morl)id  interest 
of  those  having  not  sufficient  judgment  to  appreciate  the 
fact  that  the  tale  told  is  for  the  purpose  of  arousing  the 
wrath  of  all  well-meaning  persons  against  the  scoundrels 
who  profit  by  the  traffic  in  women. 

In  the  many  works  published  in  i-efei-once  to  tlie  ^Vhite 
Slave  traffic  there  is  a  uniformity  of  information,  and  in 
some  are  suggested  remedies,  but  still  the  crime  goes  on.  In 
most  of  the  books  on  the  subject  appear  extracts  from  let- 


PREFACE  iii 

ters  and  speeches  of  eminent  divines,  social  reformers  and 
public  officials,  all  of  a  stereotyped  character,  leaving  no 
lasting  impression  after  being  read.  It  is  the  aim  of  the 
author  of  this  story  to  so  impress  his  readers  that  he  or  she 
will  ever  remember  not  only  the  events  portrayed  but  also 
the  leading  characters,  good  and  evil,  in  this  doleful  tragedy 
of  outraged  innocence  and  also  the  punishment  dealt  to 
those  responsible  for  the  crime.  If  he  succeeds  in  doing 
this,  his  labor  cannot  be  said  to  be  in  vain. 

The  author  in  many  parts  of  this  work  substitutes  the 
ancient  for  the  modern  terms,  as  for  instance:  the  home  of 
the  prostitute  was  formerly  designated  a  brothel,  now  it  is 
a  sporting  house,  and  the  inmates  now  termed  sporting 
women  were  once  known  by  a  much  harsher  term,  while  the 
pimp  is  now  occasionally  called  a  manager,  and  lives  on  the 
wages  of  sin,  and  the  white  slaver  is  known  by  his  pro- 
fessional associates  as  a  cadet. 

Why  this  change  in  nomenclature  is  hard  to  explain, 
unless  it  be  to  give  an  air  of  respectability  to  the  habitues 
of  the  underworld. 

Those  very  sensitive  people  who  condemn  an  exposure 
of  vicious  methods,  and  who  never  do  more  than  whisper 
their  opinions  of  such  matters  to  very  close  associates,  we 
advise  not  to  read  the  story  "Can  Such  Things  Be?"  But 
of  all  who  wish  to  buckle  on  their  armor  for  the  suppression 
of  the  worst  of  crimes,  the  barter  and  sale  of  the  bodies 
and  gouls  of  the  daughters  of  men,  I  earnestly  solicit  the 
patronage  and  support. 

Respectfully  submitted, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


THE  EMIGRANTS  3 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  EMIGRANTS. 

SOME  twenty  years  before  the  active  events  took  place, 
which  it  is  the  aim  of  the  author  to  chronicle,  two  men 

with  their  wives  settled  in  the  town  of  B ,  Michigan. 

Both  had  recently  arrived  from  the  old  country.  Robert 
Hill,  the  first  to  come,  was  from  the  north  of  Ireland  — 
either  the  town  of  Belfast  or  Newry,  we  forget  which. 

Hill  was  a  Presbyterian  in  religion,  but  not  a  bigot. 
He  claimed  that  every  man  or  woman  had  the  right  to 
worship  at  the  shrine  which,  in  his  or  her  opinion,  was  the 
safest  and  surest  way  to  salvation. 

Those  views  which  he  held  and  was  ever  ready  to 
defend  were  not  over-popular  with  many  of  his  co-religion- 
ists in  the  town  he  came  from ;  so  his  advocacy  of  them 
created  for  him  some  enmity. 

Refusing  to  become  a  member  of  the  Royal  Orange 
Lodge,  even  his  loyalty  was  questioned,  and  he  was  often- 
times badgered  even  by  those  somewhat  friendly  to  him,  as 
it  was  considered  both  bad  judgment  and  bad  taste  on  his 
part  not  to  join  a  society,  to  which  it  was  claimed  all  who 
were  respectable  and  loyal  to  the  Queen  and  Constitution 
owed  membership. 

As  the  12th  day  of  July  approached  each  year,  in- 
creased efforts  were  made  to  add  to  the  membership  in  the 
Royal  Orange  Lodge,  so  that  the  annual  parade  might  be 
as  imposing  as  possible. 

The   persistency   with   which   one   of   the   over-zealous 


4  THE  EMIGRANTS 

solicitors  in  pursuit  of  members  pestered  him,  on  one  occa- 
sion, caused  him  to  lose  his  temper — so  much  so  that  he  told 
him  he  had  no  earthly  use  for  the  society ;  that  the  majority 
of  the  members  were  nothing  but  rowdies ;  that  the  organiza- 
tion was  subsidized  and  maintained  for  the  purpose  of  keep- 
ing the  people  of  Ireland  divided  in  the  interests  of  a  landed 
aristocracy,  the  most  of  whom  were  aliens,  with  no  interest 
in  the  country  except  for  the  opportunities  it  gave  to  rack- 
rent  their  tenants.  And  that,  further,  the  English  garrison 
in  Ireland  encouraged  the  Orangemen  who  were  a  menace 
to  the  peace  and  good-will  of  the  Irish  people  on  account 
of  political  exigencies. 

Those  remarks  of  Hill  were  duly  reported  at  the  next 
meeting  of  the  lodge.  The  followers  of  the  glorious,  pious, 
and  immortal  William  were  dumfounded.  It  was  voted  that 
he  was  a  rebel  to  Queen  and  country — yes,  even  to  the 
religion  of  his  sires ;  that  he  was  hopelessly  lost ;  a  papist  in 
disguise,  and  that  no  further  effort  should  be  made  to 
reclaim  him,  and  that  in  the  future  no  decent  man,  who  had 
any  respect  for  his  character,  should  commune  with  him. 

Ever  after,  when  the  annual  parade  was  organized  to 
show  the  papists  that  religious  liberty  had  still  its  cham- 
pions and  that  the  memory  of  the  man  who  robbed  his 
father-in-law  of  his  crown  was  still  green  and  that  it  would 
be  just  as  well  for  every  Roman  to  keep  indoors  at  least 
for  that  occasion,  they  marched  with  their  bauds  playing 
"Croppy  Lie  Down,"  "The  Boyne  Water,"  and  other 
patriotic  airs. 

Robert  Hill's  home  la}'  on  the  line  of  marcli.  In  pass- 
ing his  residence  the  ])uglers  seemed  to  blow  a  more  vicious 
blast,  while  the  man  Avith  the  big  drum  laid  on  with  in- 
creased might  to  keep  up  with  tlie  rallying  cry  "To  Hell 
with  the  Pope".     Many  of  the  paraders  glanced  up  at  the 


THE  EMIGRANTS  5 

little  home  of  the  Hills',  where  the  blinds  were  closely 
drawn,  others  gave  vent  to  their  outraged  feelings  by 
groans,  while  some  of  the  young  urchins,  who  kept  in  line 
with  the  marchers,  would  hurl  a  stone  at  the  door  or  win- 
dows while  passing.  Some  of  the  more  staid  members  of 
the  parade  would  remonstrate  with  the  youngsters  in  a 
mild  kind  of  w^ay,  others  would  roar  with  laughter,  as  they 
heard  the  glass  crash  to  the  pavement.  "Good  enough  for 
him,"  w^as  the  comment  of  many. 

After  one  of  those  occasions,  when  an  extra  display  of 
ill  feeling  had  been  shown  toward  him  by  his  fellow-coun- 
trymen and  co-religionists,  he  resolved  to  leave  his  native 
heath  and  seek  in  other  lands  that  peace  and  prosperity 
denied  him  in  his  own. 

Before  leaving,  he  took  unto  himself  a  wife,  the  girl  of 
his  choice,  who  believed,  as  did  Rebecca  of  Old,  that  his 
God  was  her  God,  that  his  people  were  her  people,  and  that, 
wherever  he  would  go,  she  would  go.  So  she  left  home  and 
kindred  to  accompany  and  cheer  the  man  she  sincerely 
loved  with  all  her  heart  and  soul. 

Martha,  his  wife,  was  a  farmer's  daughter;  so  their 
original  intention  on  arriving  in  America  was  to  settle  on 
the  land.  They  had  heard  that  the  state  of  Michigan  gave 
ample  opportunities  to  settlers,  so  they  made  their  way  to 

the  town  of  B ,  then  a   growing   community  with   an 

abundance  of  virgin  soil  close  to  its  outskirts,  waiting  for 
those  who  desired  to  till  it. 

Hill  had  no  trade,  but  was  what  might  be  called^  a 
handy  man,  his  principal  forte  that  of  carpenter.  So,  while 
looking  around  for  a  suitable  quarter  section  to  locate  on, 
was  offered  a  job  to  assist  in  the  construction  of  a  barn. 
The  man  who  employed  him  had  less  skill  than  had  Hill, 
whose  natural  ability  and  untiring  industry  raised  him  con- 


6  THE  EMIGRANTS 

siderably  in  the  estimation  of  his  employer,  so  that,  ere  he 
was  through  with  his  first  job,  others  who  had  similar  work 
to  do  sought  his  services. 

Barns  and  eorncribs  had  to  be  constructed,  sidewalks 

laid,  the  farmers  in  the  outskirts  of  B were  generous 

and  not  overhard  to  please.  AVhat  they  wanted  was  a  good 
substantial  structure,  one  that  would  resist  the  winds,  which 
were  sometimes  especially  violent  in  that  part  of  the  coun- 
try, and  oft  played  havoc  with  the  frail  structures  that 
the  farmers  themselves  put  up  on  account  of  scarcity  of 
builders. 

The  people  of  the  village,  about  the  time  of  Hill's  ar- 
rival, were  clamoring  for  local  improvements,  so  Hill  was 
besieged  to  lay  sidewalks.  In  fact,  his  great  difficulty  was 
in  meeting  the  many  demands  on  his  services.  True,  wages 
in  those  days  were  not  high,  but  the  cost  of  provisions  was 
so  low  that  his  income  was  out  of  all  proportion  to  what 
he  had  been  receiving  in  the  town  and  country  from  whence 
he  came. 

In  a  brief  time  Hill  was  a  welcome  acquisition  to  the 

town  of  B ,  and  many's  the  time  the  farmers,  driving 

past  the  little  cottage  Hill  had  rented,  would  pull  up  their 
horses  and,  after  asking  Mrs.  Hill  if  Robert  was  in,  which 
was  seldom  the  case  between  sunrise  and  sunset,  would 
throw  from  the  wagon  a  bag  of  potatoes,  a  dozen  heads  of 
cabbage  or  a  quantity  of  whatever  vegetables  or  fruit  was 
in  season  and  then  drive  on  with  the  cheery  parting,  "Tell 
Robert  I  called.  Good  day,  Mrs.  Hill."  She  thanking  him 
as  he  smiled  and  went  on  his  way. 

The  original  idea  of  settling  on  the  land  for  the  time 
being  had  to  be  deferred;  but  Hill,  knowing  the  leaning  of 
his  wife  for  a  farm,  decided  on  a  compromise.  He  would 
secure  a  lot  as  soon  as  flu:'  rush  of  work  was  over,  and  build 


THE  EMIGRANTS  7 

himself  a  cottage.  There  was  no  scarcity  of  building  sites 
in  town.  One  corner  in  particular  he  had  his  eye  on.  He 
had  done  some  work  for  the  owner;  so  one  day  Hill  ap- 
proached him  as  to  the  price  which  he  thought  was  reason- 
able. Hill,  with  some  misgivings,  said:  "I  haven't  that 
much  money. "  "I  have  not  asked  you  for  any  yet,  have  I ? " 
said  the  owner.  Robert's  mind  reverted  to  the  difficulties 
of  securing  a  little  tract  of  land  in  Ireland,  no  matter  how 
barren. 

"I  suppose  you're  going  to  build  yourself  a  cottage?" 
queried  the  real  estate  man. 

"Yes,  sir.    When  1  have  time  and  a  little  more  money." 

"Well,  when  you  are  ready,  go  down  to  Jones,  the 
lumber  man,  and  tell  him  I  sent  you,  and,  if  he  wants  to 
know  anything  about  your  credit,  tell  him  to  come  and 
see  me." 

That  evening  Hill  told  his  wife  of  the  conversation  he 
had  with  the  real  estate  man.  She  listened  till  the  tears  of 
joy  welled  up  in  her  eyes,  and  in  her  heartfelt  gratitude 
she  invoked  God's  blessing  on  the  landowner,  instead  of 
curses,  as  she  had  often  heard  her  father  give  vent  to  against 
the  rackrenting  steward  who  acted  as  agent  for  the  alien 
landlord,  who  owned  the  land  from  whom  her  father  rented 
and  had  to  till  to  obtain  a  paltry  living,  and  was  afraid  to 
show  any  sign  of  prosperity  for  fear  of  having  his  rent 
raised. 

Matthew  Howard,  the  other  party  referred  to,  and  his 

young  wife  arrived  in  the  town  of  B some  three  months 

after  the  Hills.  Howard  was  an  Englishman,  who  had  con- 
ducted a  small  haberdashery  in  one  of  the  small  towns  in 
Lancashire.  He  was  only  recently  married,  when  he  and 
his  wife  decided  to  sell  their  business  and  leave  for  America, 
of  which  he  had  heard  such  glowing  accounts. 


8  THE  EMIGRANTS 

When  he  had  sold  the  good  will  of  his  shop,  with  its 
stock  and  fixtures,  settling  up  his  outstanding  accounts  with 
all  his  creditors,  making  some  purchases  of  goods  that  they 
would  need  on  the  train  and  ship,  and  secured  the  neces- 
sary tickets  for  himself  and  wife,  he  had  close  upon  three 
hundred  pounds  left. 

After  arriving  in  New  York  and  looking  around  its 
busy,  bustling  center,  he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
few  hundred  dollars  he  had,  after  exchanging  English  sover- 
eigns for  American  dollars,  would  not  go  far  in  establishing 
a  business  in  New  York.  This  opinion  was  intensified  when 
he  inquired  into  the  annual  rental  of  some  of  the  city's 
stores. 

Besides,  at  the  time  he  arrived,  Horace  Greeley's  ad- 
vice, *'Go  west  and  grow  up  with  the  country,"  was  a  topic 
of  conversation  and  an  advice  thousands  were  following. 
Howard  determined  to  do  likewise,  so  he  decided  to  try 
Michigan — how  he  made  the  selection  was  never  clear  to 
him.  Years  after,  when  he  had  become  a  prosperous  busi- 
ness man,  he  attributed  it  to  his  good  luck. 

Howard  and  his  wife  ultimately  found  themselves  in 

the  town  of  B .     He  claimed  to  have  liked  it  from  the 

first.  Being  of  a  social  disposition,  he  held  converse  with 
many  of  the  natives  who,  one  and  all,  proclaimed  it  to  be 
the  coming  town,  and  when  he  told  them  he  had  a  notion 
to  settle  down  among  them,  there  was  a  general  acclaim : 
"You  couldn't  do  better." 

So  he  sought  himself  a  store,  determined  to  follow  the 
line  he  was  familiar  with,  the  only  change  lieing  in  name 
from  "haberdashery"  to  "gentlemen's  furnishings,"  with 
women's  wear  as  a  side  line. 

Having  found  a  suital)k'  loi-ation,  signed  a  lease,  and 
l)iiid   a   month's  i-ent  in   advance,  something   he   had   never 


THE  EMIGRANTS  9 

done  before,  the  landloard  from  whom  he  rented  agreed  to 
put  the  place  in  necessary  repairs,  which  he  did  to  Howard's 
satisfaction.  This  being  done,  he  went  in  quest  of  a  car- 
penter to  make  a  counter,  necessary  cases  and  shelving  on 
which  to  place  his  stock. 

This  led  him  to  make  Hill's  acquaintance.  Howard 
gave  Hill  instructions  as  to  what  he  wanted  done.  Hill  gave 
him  an  estimate,  at  the  same  time  putting  in  the  proviso, 
"It  may  cost  a  dollar  or  two  more." 

"Go  ahead,"  was  Howard's  reply  offhand,  typical  of 
his  nationality,  which  boasts  of  the  squarest  and  fairest  busi- 
ness men  in  the  world  and  who  do  less  huxtering  than  do 
the  people  in  any  part  of  the  habitable  globe. 

During  the  time  Hill  was  on  the  job  he  and  Howard 
became  very  well  acquainted.  Hill  surprised  Howard  when 
he  told  him  that  he  also  was  a  comparative  stranger,  having 
arrived  only  three  months  ahead  of  him. 

"Is  that  so?  Well,  how  does  your  wife  like  it?"  in- 
quired Howard. 

"At  first  she  felt  very  lonesome,  but  never  complained, 
and  now,  as  I  am  doing  fairly  well,  she  is  a  good  deal  more 
cheerful." 

"You  will  have  to  introduce  her  to  my  wife,  as  I  am 
afraid  Mrs.  Howard  is  in  for  a  spell  of  homesickness." 

Hill  promised  he  would,  at  the  earliest  opportunity. 
So  the  women  met  one  evening  at  Hill's,  had  a  friendly  chat 
about  their  long  journey,  their  hopes  in  the  future,  and  so 
became  fast  friends,  as  did  their  husbands — two  men  in  a 
strange  land  with  much  in  common. 

In  the  fall  of  the  year,  when  Hill  had  satisfied  the  press- 
ing demands  of  his  customers,  he  decided  to  make  the  neces- 
sary preparation  to  build  his  cottage.  His  lot  was  but  one 
block  from  the  main  street,  situated  on  a  corner,  its  dimen- 


10  THE  EMIGRANTS 

sions  one  hundred  by  a  hundred  and  fifty,  running  to  an 
alley  in  the  rear.  His  friend,  Howard,  in  inspecting  it,  said 
it  was  an  ideal  spot,  and  proffered  a  little  assistance,  for 
which  Hill  thanked  him,  but  said  it  was  not  necessary,  as 
he  could  get  all  the  lumber  he  wanted  on  time — which  was 
true — as  all  material  for  the  work  he  had  done  since  coming 
to  B had  been  purchased  from  the  one  firm,  whose  pro- 
prietor had  a  high  appreciation  of  Hill  as  an  energetic, 
industrious  man,  whose  honesty  he  felt  assured  of,  and  thus 
had  more  reliable  data  as  to  Hill's  credit  as  a  risk  than 
could  Dun's  or  Bradstreet's  special  agents  be  likely  to  learn 
after  careful  inquiry. 

Hill's  cottage  when  built  was  more  substantial  than 
artistic,  sufficiently  back  from  the  street  to  leave  room  for 
a  more  imposing  front  to  the  four  rooms  completed,  when 
circumstances  would  permit. 

The  day  Hill  moved  in,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Howard  came 
over  as  soon  as  they  had  closed  their  store,  and  spent  the 
evening  with  them  as  a  kind  of  house-warming. 

Howard  and  Hill  talked  business  over  their  pipes,  and 
infused  courage  into  one  another  by  their  optimism ;  while 
their  partners  adjourned  to  another  room  and  interchanged 
views  about  things  in  general  and  probably  about  their 
neighbors  in  particular,  and  matters  of  a  delicate  character 
that  brought  joy  and  anxiety  at  the  same  time  to  both. 

In  the  rear  of  Hill's  cottage  he  had  laid  out  a  garden 
on  which  he  worked  during  his  spare  hours,  assisted  by  his 
wife,  whose  early  experience  on  her  father's  farm  gave  her 
an  advantage. 

Hill  placed  a  neat  fence  in  front  of  his  cottage  on  which 
he  displayed  some  taste,  and  fenced  around  the  entire  lot 
so  as  to  keep  stray  cows,  pigs  and  horses  out,  whose  right 
to  graze  on  the  adjoining  prairie  was  common  to  all  at  this 


THE  EMIGRANTS  11 

time.  He  built  a  coop  for  chickens,  and  in  a  short  time  put 
up  a  stye,  and  purchased  a  couple  of  young  pigs  from  a 
farmer  for  whom  he  was  doing  some  work,  at  the  same  time 
securing  a  Milch  cow,  which  he  took  as  part  payment. 

Mrs.  Hill  began  to  think  it  was  very  much  like  home, 
minus  the  poverty.  Her  heart  rejoiced.  She  could  not  think 
of  anything  more  she  wanted,  except  the  safe  arrival  of  a 
little  stranger  that  might  be  expected  in  the  near  future. 
[When  he  did  come,  Mrs.  Howard  was  in  attendance  as  chief 
nurse. 

This  event  consummated  the  happiness  of  the  Hills.  A 
father's  love  for  his  first-born  has  no  bounds,  nor  has  a 
mother 's  idolatry  for  her  baby  boy  any  limit. 

The  doctor  pronounced  the  youngster  in  every  way  ex- 
ternally perfect,  and  the  squall  he  gave  vent  to  while  re- 
ceiving his  first  bath  on  the  knee  of  a  neighboring  woman, 
who  had  come  in  to  lend  a  hand,  left  no  room  for  doubt  that 
his  little  lungs  were  in  excellent  working  order. 

The  newly-arrived  was  christened,  in  due  time, 
"Robert,"  after  his  father.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Howard  stood 
sponsors  for  him. 

The  Hills  at  this  time  may  be  said  to  have  had  solid 
comfort — Mr.  Hill  had  plenty  of  work,  the  wife  of  his  bosom, 
his  baby  boy,  and  a  comfortable  home.  He  was  as  happy 
as  a  king.  Yes,  a  great  deal  happier  than  the  majority  of 
kings;  for  if  he,  Robert  Hill,  had  a  care  in  the  world,  he 
didn't  know  it. 


12  COMRADES 


CHAPTER  II. 
COMRADES. 

It  was  hardly  two  months  after  the  birth  of  young 
Robert  when  Mrs.  Kill  got  a  hasty  summons  to  come  over 
to  Mrs.  Howard's — there  was  something  doing. 

Mrs.  Hill  ran  into  a  neighbor's  with  young  Bob  on  her 
arm,  and  asked  the  mistress  of  the  house  to  take  care  of  him 
for  awhile  as  she  was  going  over  to  Martha's,  who  <5he 
guessed  was  in  trouble.  The  woman  took  charge  of  the 
child  cheerfully,  who  was  little  trouble,  having  recently 
gorged  himself  from  the  parent  fount. 

Mrs.  Hill  arrived  at  the  Howard  homestead  out  of 
breath,  and  with  her  willing  heart  and  recent  experience 
installed  herself  as  head  nurse  and  general  assistant  to  the 
doctor  who  had  already  arrived. 

In  about  three  hours  she  returned  to  take  charge  of  her 
own  boy,  who  had  slept  the  entire  time  during  her  absence. 

"Well,  how  are  things  over  at  Howard's?"  inquired 
the  woman  who  had  taken  charge  of  young  Hill. 

"Splendid.  Mrs.  Howard  has  a  fine  boy,  and  both  she 
and  the  child  are  doing  well.  The  doctor  says  there  is  no 
trouble  at  all,  but  I  am  going  back  as  soon  as  my  husband 
comes  home  and  I  give  him  his  supper." 

Hill  and  Howard  were  of  good  old  country  stock. 
While  their  wives  were  youthful,  dutiful,  and  fruitful,  their 
husbands  more  than  probably  thought  them  l)eautiful.  They 
v/ere  good  women  and  good  wives,  and  good  helpmates,  and 
that  covers  every  necessary  qualification. 


TiiK  Age  of  Ixxocexce 


COMRADES  13 

Martha  Hill,  the  unfortunate  victim  of  this  very  sad 
story,  arrived  fifteen  months  after  Robert  Hill  junior. 
Rachel  Howard  a  few  weeks  after  Martha  Hill.  Before 
Robert  Hill  junior  was  six  years  old  he  had  two  sisters  and 
a  brother,  and,  as  if  it  had  to  be,  before  Matt  Howard  junior 
was  six  had  a  brother  and  two  sisters. 

The  children  of  both  families  grew  up  together.  Bobby 
Hill,  or  his  sister  Martha,  would  demand  a  piece  of  bread 
and  butter  at  the  Howard  house,  and  get  it  as  cheerfully 
as  at  their  own;  while  the  young  Howards  would  make  a 
raid  on  Hill's  peach  or  cherry  trees  just  as  if  they  owned 
them.  Mrs.  Hill's  only  anxiety  being,  the  children  w^ould 
eat  too  much  of  the  luscious  fruit  and  make  themselves  sick. 

Bobbie  Hill  and  Mattie  Howard  were  constant  com- 
panions, as  were  their  little  sisters.  Boys,  like  ducks,  are 
fond  of  the  water.  Bob  and  Matt  would  go  to  the  creek  to 
swim,  or  near  swim,  probably  oftener  than  they  told  their 
parents.  Martha  and  Rachel  would  follow  them  and  wit- 
ness the  wonderful  feats  of  splashing  and  diving  performed 
by  the  two  boys.  Little  sisters  have  an  exalted  idea  of  their 
brothers'  prowess,  though  they  may  be  but  a  year  or  two 
older  than  they.  When  the  boys  came  out  of  the  water 
they  might  have  to  tell  their  sisters  to  get  off  their  clothes. 
Young  Miss  Hill,  in  a  spirit  of  mischief,  might  give  young 
Howard  a  slap — a  little  below  where  he  would  wear  his  belt 
if  he  had  one.  Young  Miss  Howard,  entering  into  the  spirit 
of  the  fun,  would  give  young  Hill  a  slap,  and  then  both  the 
little  girls  run  for  it,  the  boys  either  pursuing  them  or 
threatening  what  they  would  do  when  they  caught  them. 

But  their  wrath  never  lasted  much  after  they  had  their 
trousers  on,  and  the  four  youngsters  would  start  for  home, 
and  on  the  way  pick  wild  flowers  or  blackberries,  or  do 
anything  that  struck  their  childish  fancy. 


14  COMRADES 

The  time  arrived,  however,  when  Bob  and  Matt  had  to 
go  to  school,  a  great  hardship  to  the  youngster  with  the 
savage's  inclination  to  roam  at  large.  Their  sisters  following 
them  a  year  later,  they  were  still  constant  companions. 

That  idea  inherent  in  the  savage,  who  looks  upon  the 
female  as  an  inferior  being  over  whom  he  can  lord,  often 
showed  up  in  the  boys  when  they  would  compel  their  sisters 
to  take  their  books  and  slates  home  while  they  rushed  off 
to  the  creek  to  take  their  daily  swim. 

Occasionally  the  girls  would  follow  their  brothers,  and 
would  throw  tufts  of  grass  or  sod  at  them,  or  harder  mis- 
siles into  close  proximity  to  the  young  bathers  for  the  pur- 
pose of  showing  their  resentment  by  splashing  and  trying 
to  irritate  them  at  the  same  time. 

One  very  warm  day  after  the  boys  had  been  to  school 
for  a  couple  of  years,  they  ordered  the  girls  home  with 
their  books  and  slates  which,  added  to  those  of  the  girls, 
made  a  considerable  parcel,  and  led  them  to  make  a  mild 
protest,  but  to  no  avail. 

Robert  and  Matt  raced  for  the  creek  to  take  their  daily 
plunge.  After  a  time  their  sisters  came  strolling  along,  arm 
in  arm.  They  looked  at  the  boys'  sunburned  bodies  in  the 
water  as  they  had  done  hundreds  of  times  before,  but  noticed 
an  innovation.  Each  of  the  youngsters  had  on  a  little  pair 
of  drawers.  Young  Howard  had  found  them  in  his  father's 
stock,  and  preempted  a  pair  for  himself  and  a  pair  for  his 
friend  Hill,  without  a  single  tJiought  as  to  their  purpose, 
but  of  being  in  line  with  young  men  of  more  mature  growth 
who,  they  had  noticed,  wore  such  things  while  batliiug. 

The  girls,  on  noticing  the  change,  walked  away,  whis- 
pering to  one  another.  Probably  they  wove  not  well  uj)  in 
biblical  history,  and  so  not  conversant  with  the  wonderful 
change  l)rought  about  by  the  eating  of  an  apple  by  our 


COMRADES  15 

first  parents.  But  their  eyes  were  opened.  They  felt  the 
influence  of  the  tree  of  knowledge,  though  it  had  withered 
in  the  garden  of  Eden  thousands  of  years  before. 

And,  while  much  more  reserve  was  displayed  in  the 
future  than  in  the  past,  they  were  still  sisters  and  brothers, 
neither  of  the  boys  making  much  distinction,  up  to  this 
time  having  not  reached  the  age  when  a  fellow  thinks  more 
of  another  fellow's  sister  than  he  does  of  his  own. 

When  the  two  young  gentlemen  aforementioned  "wtire 
hobeldy-hoyes,"  that  is,  between  men  and  boys,  Martha 
Hill  would  spend  an  occasional  evening  at  the  Howards' 
when  her  friend  Rachel  would  prevail  upon  her  to  stay  all 
night  and  sleep  with  her.  The  bedrooms  were  on  the  second 
floor.  Matthew  at  this  time  used  to  help  his  father  in  the 
store,  and,  being  a  fine,  healthy  youngster,  bedtime  found 
him  both  tired  and  sleepy.  So  as  soon  as  his  head  struck  the 
pillow  he  was  dead  to  the  world. 

The  girls,  bent  on  mischief,  would  get  up  in  their  night 
gowns,  each  armed  with  a  pillow,  and  would  steal  silently 
along  the  passage  to  Matt's  room  and  opening  his  door  and 
seeing  him  asleep  would  hurl  their  pillows  at  his  head.  If 
their  aim  was  accurate,  he  would  wake  with  a  start,  jump 
up,  and  make  a  bluff  as  to  following  them  in  his  night  shirt, 
which  if  he  wore  one  at  all  was  much  shorter  than  those 
worn  by  the  girls,  who  would  scamper  away  and  close  the 
door  of  their  room  as  if  in  deadly  fear  of  his  following  them. 

This  was  great  fun  for  the  girls,  who  would  laugh  at 
his  discomfiture.  Sometimes  when  they  were  extra  per- 
sistent, as  a  last  resort  he  would  get  up  and,  pulling  on  his 
trousers,  take  one  of  the  pillows  they  had  hurled  at  him,  go 
to  their  room  and  souse  them  both  good  and  plenty,  the 
girls  squirming  and  performing  remarkable  contortions  in 
their  efforts  to  cover  both  their  heads  and  their  legs  at  the 
same  time,  while  he  flailed  them  both  indiscriminately. 


16  COMRADES 

The  girls  ultimately  supplicating  for  mercy.  ''Now 
will  you  be  good?"  he  would  say  to  them,  and  they  both 
promising  they  would  he  would  retire  to  his  own  room,  tak- 
ing the  precaution  to  barricade  his  door  for  fear  the  treaty 
of  peace  would  be  violated,  roll  into  bed  and  soon  be  sleep- 
ing the  sleep  of  the  innocent. 

The  next  morning  at  the  breakfast  table  the  battle  of 
the  previous  night  would  be  the  subject  of  discourse,  he 
telling  of  the  trouncing  he  had  to  give  the  two  girls  to  make 
them  behave  themselves.  His  father  and  mother  would 
smile  at  the  recital,  while  the  younger  members  would  laugh 
with  merriment,  as  they  listened  to  the  details  of  the  pillow 
combat. 

The  girls  denying  he  gave  half  as  much  as  he  got  and 
his  sister  threatening  to  get  even  with  him  the  first  night 
Martha  came  over  to  stay  with  her. 

Bob  Hill  used  to  delight  to  hear  his  sister  Martha's 
version  of  what  she  and  Rachel  had  done  to  Matt,  and  it 
was  just  as  enjoyable  to  hear  ]\Iatt  tell  what  he  had  done 
to  Martha  and  Rachel,  Bob's  only  regret  being  that  he  wasn't 
there  to  help  out  his  friend  and  companion,  claiming  'twas 
hardly  fair  for  both  of  them  to  jump  on  Matt  at  the  same 
time.  "If  I  had  been  there,  we  would  have  given  it  to  you 
both  good  and  plenty." 

Such  was  the  early  life  and  times  of  the  leading  char- 
acters in  this  dismal  story  of  frightful  wrong. 


JOY  AND  SORROW  17 


CHAPTER  III. 

JOY  AND  SORROW. 

Matthew  Howard,  Sr.,  like  most  of  his  countrymen,  had 
little  choice  between  the  multiplicity  of  Protestant  per- 
suasions. 

He  supposed  he  was  an  Episcopalian,  but  if  he  was 
asked  to  define  the  difference  between  that  faith  and  that 
of  the  Methodists,  Baptists  or  Presbyterians,  he  would  give 
it  up. 

As  for  Hill,  his  early  experience  with  some  of  the  Pres- 
byterians he  had  known  made  him  not  over-friendly  to  them. 
He  had  in  mind  some  of  the  rabid  sermons  of  some  of  their 
preachers  on  the  eve  of  the  glorious  12th,  as  they  designated 
it.  He,  however,  never  bothered  himself  about  religious 
observances.  On  Sunday  morning  he  preferred  a  rest  after 
his  hard  week's  work,  leaving  his  good  wife  to  attend  to 
church  matters  and  the  proper  training  of  his  children;  his 
share  being  a  liberal  contribution  for  the  maintenance  of 
the  church,  and  the  doing  of  little  jobs  for  the  pastor,  a  man 
for  whom  he  had  great  respect. 

The  elder  Howard  preferred  to  look  over  his  books  on 
Sunday  morning,  or  going  over  to  Hill's  to  gossip  with  his 
friend.  In  the  summer  time  they  sat  out  in  the  garden  under 
the  vines,  where  Hill  had  made  a  little  arbor,  the  shade  from 
which,  added  to  the  scent  from  the  flowers,  made  it  an  ideal 
retreat.  Howard,  like  his  fellow  countrymen,  liked  his  glass 
of  ale,  so  both  of  the  old  chums  would  light  their  pipes,  fill 


18  JOY  AND  SORROW 

their  steins,  and  discuss  whatever  matters  were  uppermost 
in  their  minds. 

Mrs.  Howard  was  a  pillar  of  the  church,  her  financial 
condition  enabling  her  to  be  its  most  liberal  supporter. 

Both  families  attended  the  Reformed  Evangelical 
Church.  The  girls,  Martha  Hill  and  Rachel  Howard,  sang 
in  the  choir. 

Martha  Hill  had  a  rich  soprano  voice,  and  was  probably 
as  great  an  attraction  as  was  the  pastor.  She  was  ever  will- 
ing to  lend  her  aid  for  any  charitable  or  social  entertain- 
ment that  frequently  took  place  in  the  town  of  B or 

neighboring  villages,  so  her  services  were  frequently  sought. 

Her  willingness  to  serve  whenever  occasion  permitted 
made  her  extremely  popular  with  all  who  knew  her,  espe- 
cially with  the  young  men  who  envied  Matt  Howard,  who 
seemed  to  have  a  prior  claim  on  her  and  whose  proud  privi- 
lege it  was  to  escort  her  home  every  Sunday  after  church 
service.  Robert  Hill  did  as  much  for  Rachel  Howard,  leav- 
ing their  mothers  with  the  younger  branches  of  both  fami- 
lies, to  gossip  with  the  members  of  the  congregation,  and 
find  their  way  home  at  their  leisure. 

Martha  Hill,  when  eighteen  years  old,  was  considered 
as  handsome  a  girl  as  could  be  found  in  Michigan.  Her 
form  was  slight,  her  hair  a  dark  brown,  ever  tastily  ar- 
ranged. She  had  dark  eyes,  and  a  face  which  would  have 
served  an  artist  as  a  model  for  painting  a  picture  of  the 
Madonna. 

Matthew  Howard  felt  a  pride  in  walking  by  her  side. 
He  had  never  spoken  of  love  to  her,  having  grown  up  from 
childhood  together.  He  felt  for  her  a  brotherly  affection, 
though  gossip  said  that  the  time  would  come  when  they  would 
be  bound  by  a  link  more  binding,  and  so  it  was  understood. 

He  was,  however,  only  a  big  boy  and  she  a  modest,  un- 


JOY  AND  SORROW  19 

assuming  girl  who  knew  her  place.  True,  if  Matt  Howard 
had  said,  "Martha,  I  want  you  to  be  my  wife,"  she  would 
have  said  * '  Yes "  as  a  matter  of  course.  But  they  were  both 
young  and  there  was  plenty  of  time. 

Robert  Hill,  Sr.,  had  been  suffering  from  rheumatic 
pains  for  some  time,  which  incapacitated  him  for  doing  much 
work.  At  length  a  severe  attack  assailed  him,  he  was  con- 
fined to  his  bed,  and  lay  for  months.  When  able  to  get  up, 
he  was  comparatively  a  cripple,  his  hands  having  suffered 
severely. 

Robert,  Jr.,  worked  in  the  mill  as  assistant  engineer,  but 
his  pay  was  small,  as  there  was  no  union  in  that  town  to 
boost  wages,  and  farmers'  sons  were  ever  ready  to  take  the 
place  of  any  man  who  gave  up  his  job,  frequently  at  a  re- 
duced salary.  William,  his  brother,  also  worked  in  the  mill. 
He  had  just  turned  thirteen,  and  received  but  seven  dollars 
a  month  for  his  services,  hardly  enough  to  furnish  him  shoes 
and  clothes.  There  were  five  other  children  to  be  provided 
for,  so  the  financial  condition  of  the  Hills  began  to  be  pre- 
carious. The  little  money  they  had  saved  in  better  times, 
ere  a  year  was  over,  had  been  spent  in  maintenance,  doctor's 
fees  and  medicine. 

The  Howards  would  see  they  wanted  for  nothing,  but 
the  Hills  were  proud  and,  as  both  families  had  been  for  many 
years  on  a  basis  of  equality,  the  Hills  hated  to  take  the  role 
of  dependants. 

Mrs.  Hill,  a  good  frugal  woman,  determined  to  make 
the  little  money  the  two  boys  brought  in  and  the  revenue 
from  her  garden  suffice  until  better  times. 

Martha  Hill  was  just  bordering  on  nineteen  when  she 
determined  to  go  to  work.     There  was  no  employment  for 

her  in  the  town  of  B .     Besides,  she  was  known  to  all, 

where  she  had  long  held  a  position  of  equality  with  the 


20  JOY  AND  SORROW 

best  people,  and  so  was  reluctant  to  take  a  menial  place  even 
if  one  was  offered  in  a  community  where  she  was  kno\vn  to 
all.  So  she  read  the  ads  in  the  Chicago  papers,  which 
stated  that  girls  were  wanted  in  nearly  every  branch  of  in- 
dustry, and  in  some  cases  salaries  mentioned  that  seemed 
liberal  to  her.  She  figured,  if  she  could  but  obtain  one  of 
them,  the  material  aid  she  could  give  her  parents  to  help 
them  in  the  maintenance  of  the  family  now  sorely  pinched. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hill,  old-fashioned  people,  were  not  over- 
particular as  to  their  own  raiment,  but  when  they  were 
prosperous  their  Martha  should  have  the  best  their  means 
could  provide  or  her  taste  require.  So  that,  at  church  or 
social,  she  was  dressed  as  well,  and  in  as  good  taste,  as  any 
other  young  lady  in  the  assemblage.  Her  companion,  Rachel 
Howard,  through  the  financial  condition  of  her  parents,  was 
dressed  so  becomingly  that  the  two  girls  were  recognized  as 
the  belles  of  the  town.  Both,  however,  were  sensible  girls, 
never  put  on  any  airs,  and  so  excited  no  jealousies,  but  were 
loved  and  admired  by  all. 

Now  that  the  Hills'  circumstances  had  undergone  a 
change,  Martha  had  to  forego  much  of  the  finery  she  was 
accustomed  to,  till  at  length  she  began  to  feel  sliabby  and 
out  of  place  amongst  ber  former  associates  who,  like  the 
Howard  girls,  could  afford  to  dress  well. 

Matt  Howard  never  noticed  the  change.  She  was  the 
same  to  him,  no  matter  how  she  was  attired,  but  many  of 
the  young  women  did.  ]\Iartha's  sensitive  disposition  could 
not  fail  but  notice  it.  Martha  began  to  avoid  them  as  much 
as  possible.  A  regular  attendant  at  church  when  service 
was  over,  she  began  to  plead  excuses  for  going  home  alone ; 
]\Iatt  Howard's  attempt  to  escort  her  being  met  with  the 
statement,  "I  must  hurry  home.  Father  is  not  very  well 
today  and  I  must  help  mother  to  prepare  dinner,"  or  some 


JOY  AND  SORROW  21 

other  equally  valid,  if  not  absolutely  truthful  excuse.  After 
the  evening  service  her  plea  was  often  "she  had  to  hurry 
home  to  get  the  children  ready  for  bed." 

Matt  Howard  thought  it  strange  of  Martha  not  to  as 
cheerfully  accept  his  company  as  she  had  done  previously. 
But  being  aware  of  her  father's  sickness,  and  feeling  con- 
fident that  he  had  no  rival,  he  attributed  it  to  her  anxiety, 
and  consoled  himself  with  the  hope  her  father  would  soon 
be  better  and  the  old  conditions  resumed. 

Matthew  Howard  was  just  twenty,  when  a  sad  mis- 
fortune happened ;  his  father  and  mother  both  dying  within 
a  week  of  one  another  from  a  disease  which  was  epidemic 
at  the  time. 

Mr.  Howard  was  the  first  to  succumb.  His  death  cast 
a  gloom  over  the  whole  community,  as  he  was  considered 
one  of  their  leading  citizens,  ever  ready  to  assist  in  any 
movement  for  the  general  welfare,  his  money  and  his  time 
at  the  disposal  of  any  project  he  considered  good  for  the 
town  and  people  of  B . 

At  the  time  of  his  death,  Robert  Hill,  Sr.,  took  it  much 
to  heart,  especially  so  as  he  was  unable  even  to  attend  the 
burial  of  his  oldest  and  staunchest  friend. 

The  day  of  Matthew  Howard's  funeral  was  a  general 
holiday.  All  the  stores  were  closed,  the  whole  town  turned 
out,  many  came  from  a  distance,  to  pay  their  last  respects 
to  a  man  who  in  life  had  earned  the  respect  of  all  who  knew 
him. 

The  little  church  in  which  the  funeral  services  were  to 
be  held  could  only  hold  a  fraction  of  the  assembled  throng, 
the  greater  part  of  the  crowd  having  to  remain  outside  to 
await  the  forming  of  the  procession  which  would  follow  the 
deceased  to  his  last  resting  place. 

The  pastor  preached  an  appropriate  sermon,  dwelling 


22  JOY  AND  SORROW 

at  length  on  the  many  good  qualities  of  their  departed  friend, 
and  the  great  loss  the  community  had  sustained  by  his  un- 
timely taking  off.  He  referred  to  the  public  spirit  Mr. 
Howard  had  always  displayed  in  everything  that  would 
contribute  to  the  welfare  of  their  town,  and  closed  with  a 
few  feeling  remarks  as  to  the  sorrowing  family  that  was 
left  behind,  especially  sad,  as  their  mother  was  lying  in  a 
bed  of  sickness,  stricken  by  the  same  fatal  disease. 

But  it  was  not  until  the  splendid  voice  of  Martha  Hill 
rang  out  clear  and  strong,  singing  "Nearer  My  God  to 
Thee,"  that  the  vast  audience  was  so  impressed  that  people 
wept  profusely.  As  her  magnificent  voice  was  heard  far  be- 
yond the  limits  of  the  church,  the  crowds  outside  pressed 
forward  so  as  not  to  miss  a  single  note. 

Mrs.  Howard  followed  her  departed  husband  ere  an- 
other week  had  passed.    The  people  of  the  town  of  B 

were  shocked.  The  services  were  held  in  the  same  little 
church,  a  similar  concourse  of  people,  a  sermon  by  the  same 
pastor,  who  again  spoke  for  the  sorrowing  family  that  had 
been  so  sorely  pressed.  Martha  Hill  sang  "Lead  Kindly 
Light."  Her  voice  illumined  the  hearts  of  her  listeners — it 
seemed,  as  if  it  were  an  angel  singing. 

The  whole  community  was  proud  of  her.  After  she  had 
concluded,  Rachel  Howard  went  toward  her,  and  wept  on 
her  shoulder.  Her  grief  for  the  loss  of  her  parents,  and  her 
gratitude  to  her  friend  found  relief  in  copious  tears,  in 
which  Martha's  mingled  as  they  embraced. 


THE  PARTING  23 

CHAPTER  IV. 
THE  PARTING. 

The  funerals  over,  young  Matt  Howard,  though  not  of 
age,  found  himself  charged  with  the  full  responsibility  of 
conducting  the  extensive  and  profitable  business  which  his 
deceased  father  had  left  him,  besides  the  care  of  the  younger 
members  of  the  family.  He  had  been  a  good  son  and  a  good 
brother,  and  so  faced  the  ordeal  like  a  man.  He  would  now 
have  to  assume  the  position  of  head  of  the  family.  Pre- 
vious to  the  death  of  his  father  and  mother,  he  never  knew 
what  care  was,  always  gay,  and,  while  a  willing  worker  in 
the  store,  paying  little  attention  to  the  details.  He  knew 
his  father's  capacity  for  business,  so  always  awaited  in- 
structions. 

Now  that  he  had  to  assume  managerial  functions  a 
change  seemed  to  have  come  over  him.  He  was  more  sedate 
and  reserved  as  became  a  very  busy  business  man. 

Only  to  the  Hills  was  he  the  same.  He  was  always 
pleased  to  have  Robert  spend  the  evening  with  him  in  the 
store,  and  was  glad  when  Martha  would  come  in.  She  was 
such  good  company  for  his  sisters,  who  looked  upon  her  as 
almost  one  of  the  family.  When  he  saw  her  enter,  he  would 
merely  say,  "Good  evening,  Martha,"  or,  if  very  busy, 
nodded  and  smiled,  while  she  made  her  way  to  the 
cashier's  desk  where  Rachel  was  installed.  Occasionally, 
Rachel  might  want  to  be  relieved  for  a  few  moments.  She 
would  say,  "Come  in  here,  Martha,  and  mind  the  cash  for 
me  for  a  few  minutes ; "  if  Matthew  noticed  the  transfer,  he 


24  THE  PARTING 

would  shout,  "See  you  don't  take  any  bad  money  while 
you're  there,  Martha."  Martha  would  smile  at  his  friendly 
banter,  while,  if  Bob  Hill  was  present,  he  would  look  with 
ardent  admiration  at  his  beautiful  sister,  who  was  the  idol 
of  his  heart. 

One  Sunday,  some  weeks  after  Matt  had  assumed 
charge  of  the  store,  he  waited  for  IMartha  at  the  church 
door.  As  leader  of  the  choir  she  was  delayed  in  giving 
instructions  to  some  of  the  younger  members.  She  and 
Rachel  Howard  came  out  together. 

Matt  placed  himself  in  front  of  the  two  girls  and  said : 
"Martha,  I  am  going  to  see  you  home  today,  I  want  to  talk 
to  you."  His  sister  smiled  and  said:  "Well,  I  suppose  you 
don't  want  me,"  and  took  her  departure. 

"No,  Matthew,"  was  Martha's  reply.  "You  will  have 
to  excuse  me.  I  am  in  a  great  hurry.  You  see  I  am  a  little 
late  and  will  have  to  hurry  home  to  help  mother  with  the 
dinner." 

Before  Matthew  had  time  to  persist  in  his  desire  of 
seeing  her  home,  she  had  turned  and  was  on  her  way.  He 
felt  slighted,  but,  gazing  after  her,  noticed  for  the  first  time 
that  she  was  not  dressed  as  well  as  formerly,  and  when  he 
looked  at  his  sisters  and  a  number  of  the  other  young  ladies 
who  had  just  left  the  church,  he  recognized  the  difference 
in  their  apparel.  Not  but  Martha  was  clean  and  sweet  and 
the  clothes  she  wore  were  neat  on  her,  but  she  was  shabby, 
in  comparison.  It  began  to  daAvn  upon  him  that  the  circum- 
stances of  the  Hills  were  far  from  prosperous.  He  resolved 
to  go  over  that  evening  and  kind  of  size  tilings  up.  He  had 
an  uneasy  feeling  that  he  could  not  account  for,  namely: 
that  Martha  Hill  was  not  as  kindly  disposed  toward  him 
as  she  had  been  formerly — why,  he  couldn't  tell,  unless 
probably  from  the  stress  of  business  since  he  had  taken 


THE  PARTING  25 

charge  of  the  firm  he  had  not  paid  as  much  attention  to  her 
as  he  had  done  formerly,  or  perhaps,  as  he  ruminated,  some 
other  young  fellow  had  come  between  them  and  she  did  not 
want  to  be  seen  with  him  for  fear  of  causing  jealousy. 

That  afternoon,  Martha  Hill  began  to  fill  a  different 
place  in  his  social  affairs  than  she  had  ever  done  before.  He 
had  thought  of  going  over  to  the  Hills'  that  evening,  but 
then  Martha's  duties  in  the  church  as  soloist  in  the  choir 
would  not  allow  him  much  time,  so  he  resolved  to  defer  it 
to  the  following  day.  But  before  he  could  leave  the  store 
Monday  evening,  Robert  Hill  came  in.  Matt  saw  at  a  glance 
he  had  something  on  his  mind. 

"What's  up?"  said  Matt,  as  Robert  and  he  met  at  the 
far  end  of  the  store. 

"I  have  had  some  trouble  with  Martha,"  was  his  reply. 

''What!" 

"Yes,  she's  made  up  her  mind  to  go  to  Chicago  and 
seek  a  situation." 

' '  Ridiculous ! ' '  exclaimed  Matt.  "  I  'd  just  as  soon  think 
of  letting  Rachel  go." 

"Well,  she  seems  determined.  She  wants  to  learn  some 
business.  She  claims  there  is  no  opportunity  here.  We  have 
all  tried  to  dissuade  her  from  it,  but  to  no  use;  she  says 
she  is  of  age  now  and  able  to  take  care  of  herself,  so  I  don't 
see  what  we  can  do  but  let  her  go." 

"Rachel,"  shouted  Matt,  "come  here."  Rachel  left 
her  desk  and  came  over  to  where  Hill  and  her  brother  were 
standing. 

' '  What  do  you  think  ?  Here 's  Bob  telling  me  that  Mar- 
tha has  made  up  her  mind  to  go  to  Chicago  and  seek  a  situa- 
tion.    I  protest  against  it." 

Rachel  was  visibly  affected,  she  felt  for  her  brother's 
anxiety.    Her  woman's  wit  knew  what  it  meant. 


26  THE  PARTING 

"We  must  dissuade  her  from  it,"  remarked  Rachel, 
"Matt,  you  get  some  one  to  take  care  of  the  cash,  and  I'll 
go  right  over." 

When  Rachel  Howard  returned  after  seeing  Martha, 
her  eyes  were  red  from  crying. 

"What  does  she  say?"  was  Matt's  eager  question. 

"Well,  she's  determined  to  go.  I  coaxed  her  and 
pressed  her  all  I  could,  but  to  no  avail.  All  she  would 
promise  me  was  that  she  would  soon  return,  whether  she 
got  a  place  or  not." 

"What  is  her  reason  for  going,  do  you  think?"  he  in- 
quired anxiously. 

"Well,  my  opinion  is  that  they  have  been  sorely 
pinched.  You  see  her  father  has  been  laid  up  for  over  a 
year,  and  what  with  the  doctor  bills  and  their  big  family 
it  has  been  very  hard  on  Mrs.  Hill  to  make  ends  meet,  and 
Martha  wants  to  go  to  Chicago  and  get  a  position  so  that 
she  can  help  them." 

"Why,  they  must  know  that  I  am  willing  to  help  them 
to  all  they  may  require.  I  am  sorry,  Rachel,  you  didn't 
tell  me  this  before." 

"I  told  them,  Matt,  but  you  see  the  Hills  have  a  sense 
of  pride  and  don't  want  to  be  under  obligations  to  any  one, 
and  as  they  have  an  account  here  already  somewhat  over- 
due—" 

"You  surely  have  not  been  dunning  them,"  said  Mat- 
thew hastily. 

"No,  Matt.  Of  course  I  sent  the  monthly  bills  out  as 
usual,  but  Martha  came  and  mentioned  to  me  it  was  not 
convenient  for  her  mother  to  pay  at  the  time.  I  told  her 
to  tell  her  mother  not  to  mind  it ;  that  there  was  no  hurry 
and  that  they  could  have  all  they  wanted.  What  could  I 
do  more?" 


THE  PARTING  27 

**Well,  you  should  have  told  me,"  replied  Matthew 
petulantly.  *'But  surely  Martha  knows  I  wouldn't  see  them 
want  for  anything." 

''She's  the  most  particular  of  all.  She  would  rather 
ask  a  stranger  than  she  would  you ;  she 's  so  sensitive. ' ' 

"When  does  she  talk  about  going?" 

"By  the  10:20  tomorrow.  She  says  she  is  anxious 
to  get  away.  Her  poor  father's  heart  is  broken,  but,  not  to 
discourage  her,  he  says  maybe  it's  for  the  best,  that  Martha 
is  a  good  girl  and  that  there  is  no  danger  of  her  going  astray 
nor  forgetting  her  home  or  parents." 

Matthew  Howard  spent  the  most  miserable  night  of  his 
life.  He  could  not  sleep  for  thinking  what  he  should  do. 
His  first  impression  was  to  openly  disclose  his  love,  and  pre- 
vent her  going,  even  if  he  had  to  use  force. 

When  the  time  came  for  the  parting  at  Hills',  Martha's 
mother  was  inconsolable  and  cried  bitterly,  Martha  tried 
to  comfort  her. 

"Why,  mother,  what  are  you  crying  for?  I  am  only 
going  a  short  distance ;  I  can  go  today  and  be  back  tomor- 
row. When  I  get  a  place,  as  I  am  sure  I  will,  I  can  write 
you  every  week,  yes,  every  day  if  need  be." 

"But  what  if  you  should  be  sick?"  said  her  mother 
between  her  sobs. 

"No  danger,"  replied  the  girl  confidently,  "and  if  I 
was,"  looking  in  the  direction  of  her  brother,  "Bob  could 
get  to  Chicago  in  a  couple  of  hours  and  bring  me  home." 

Bob  took  no  notice  of  Martha's  suggestion.  He  was  in 
a  sulk,  having  already  strenuously  objected  to  her  going. 
He  stood  with  her  bundle  in  his  arms,  waiting  to  see  her 
to  the  train. 

Martha  Hill  assumed  a  much  more  cheerful  aspect  than 
she  felt,  kissed  her  father  and  mother  at  their  front  door, 


28  THE  PARTING 

all  the  young  members  of  the  family  going  to  see  "Sis"  off. 
As  she  turned  to  go,  her  youngest  brother  and  sister  each 
took  one  of  her  hands,  the  others  following  as  closely  as 
they  could,  with  Bob  bringing  up  the  rear  with  her  bundle 
under  his  arm. 

As  she  went  down  the  road  leading  to  the  depot,  the 
neighbors  came  to  their  doors,  and,  waving  their  hands, 
shouted  "Good  bye,  Martha!"  or  "Good  luck,  Martha!"  or 
"Good  luck,  Martha,  a  safe  journey;  wish  you  soon  back." 
She  waved  her  hand  and  smiled  at  them  in  turn.  To  those 
within  easy  reach  of  her  voice,  she  said,  "Thank  you,  Mrs. 

,"  or  "Thank  you,  Mr. ,"  as  the  case  might  be.    A 

number  of  boys  and  girls  who  saw  the  little  procession  ran 
toward  her  and  shouted: 

"Hello,  Martha,  going  to  leave  us?" 

"Yes,  for  a  little  while,"  or  some  other  appropriate 
reply  to  their  remarks. 

Ere  she  had  reached  the  depot,  quite  a  number  got  in 
line.  At  the  depot  many  of  her  girl  friends  were  there  in 
advance  to  see  her  off.  When  she  arrived  they  gathered 
around  her,  and  stood  chatting  with  her,  while  awaiting 
the  arrival  of  the  train, 

A  few  minutes  before  train  time,  Matthew  Howard  came 
running  along,  followed  by  his  sister  Rachel.  His  eagerness 
to  see  Bob  Hill's  sister  before  she  could  get  away  was  illus- 
trated by  the  way  he  was  walking  ahead  of  Rachel,  who 
came  some  yards  behind  him,  unable  to  keep  the  pace. 
Reaching  the  group  that  surrounded  Martha,  she  smiled  at 
him  as  he  said: 

"Well,  Martha,  you're  going  to  leave  us,  I  see?" 

"Yes,  for  a  time  anyway." 

"I  am  awfully  sorry  you're  going. 

"Oh,  never  mind,"  chimed  in  one  about  Martha's  age, 


THE  PARTING  29 

''we'll  see  you're  not  lonesome  till  she  returns.    Won't  we 
girls  ? ' ' 

"No,  we'll  try  to  cheer  him  up  while  she's  away," 
said  another.  Martha  blushed  and  frowned  at  her.  Other 
girls  tittered. 

Matthew  looked  sheepish  under  the  banter. 
"Bob,  I  want  to  talk  to  you,"  at  the  same  time  beckon- 
ing to  Martha ;  the  three  walked  down  the  platform  together. 
The  others,  seeing  they  wanted  to  be  alone,  stood  back. 
As  soon  as  they  got  out  of  hearing,  Matthew  said : 
"Bob.  I  don't  like  this  idea  of  Martha  going  away." 
"Neither  do  I,  but  she's  determined  to  go." 
"Why,  you  would  think  I  was  going  to  the  other  end 
of  the  world  to  hear  you  talk,  instead  of  only  two  or  three 
hours'  journey.    I  have  told  you  if  I  don't  like  it  I  will  come 
straight  back,"  somewhat  petulantly. 
The  two  men  were  silent. 

"You  know,  Robert,"  continuing,  "it  is  time  I  tried  to 
help  father  and  mother,  and  there  is  nothing  doing  around 
here." 

The  time  for  the  arrival  of  the  train  past,  both  men  saw 
there  was  little  use  of  discussing  the  thing  further.  "Well, 
Martha,"  said  Matt,  as  they  turned  to  join  the  group  of 
friends  who  were  waiting.  "If  you  should  run  short  don't 
fail  to  notify  me,  that's  all  I'll  ask  of  you  for  the  present, 
though  I  am  sorry  you  are  going." 

"I  think,  Matt,  we're  already  too  much  in  your  debt." 
"You  are  not  in  my   debt  at   all,"  replied  Howard, 
promptly. 

"Oh  yes,  we  are,  Matt,  but  we'll  pay  you." 
"No,  you're  not.    Any  differences  between  us  Bob  and 
I  can  settle  our  two  selves.    You've  nothing  to  do  with  it. 


30  THE  PARTING 

and  Bob  knows,  or  ought  to  know,  that  anything  your  peo- 
ple want  I  will  be  only  too  glad  to  furnish." 

The  girl  could  not  but  smile  at  his  eager  manner.  He 
wished  to  show  his  friendship  for  her  people.  Having 
reached  the  waiting  friends,  the  conversation  ceased. 

The  train  hove  in  sight.  Martha's  girl  friends  gathered 
around  and  began  to  kiss  her.  Martha  in  turn  kissed  her 
little  brothers  and  sisters  and  at  last  it  came  to  Bob's  turn. 
He  placed  his  arm  affectionately  around  his  sister's  neck 
and  kissed  her. 

Matt  stood  a  few  paces  back,  looking  very  sheepish. 
Martha  extended  her  hand  to  him,  he  grasped  it,  held  it  a 
moment  and  let  it  go. 

"Why  don't  you  kiss  her,  Matt?"  said  one  of  the  girls 
with  a  twinkle  in  her  eye. 

Martha  placed  her  foot  upon  the  step  of  the  train,  look- 
ing at  Matt  as  if  her  last  glance  was  for  him. 

''Why  didn't  you  kiss  her?"  said  another  of  the  girls, 
as  if  reproaching  him.  If  she  had  only  kissed  him  he  would 
have  been  the  happiest  man  in  life,  and  would  have  begged 
her  not  to  go  away  and  leave  him.  As  it  was,  he  wondered 
why  he  didn't  detain  her  until  the  train  went  by.  He  re- 
turned to  his  place  of  business  with  a  sad  heart.  He  never 
knew  how  much  he  cared  for  her  until  she  had  gone. 


THE  FATAL  MEETING  31 


CHAPTER  V. 
THE  FATAL  MEETING. 

As  Martha  Hill  looked  out  of  the  window  of  the  train 
that  was  bearing  her  away  from  home  and  friends,  she 
tried  to  look  cheerful.  She  waved  her  handkerchief  to  those 
who  still  stood  on  the  platform  in  return  to  their  good-bye. 
She  noticed  her  brother  turn  away  and  place  his  handker- 
chief to  his  eyes.  The  girls  kept  waving  theirs  until  the 
train  shot  around  a  turn  in  the  road  and  was  lost  to  view. 
The  last  person  Martha  noticed  in  the  group  was  Matthew 
Howard*.  She  saw  his  troubled  look.  It  made  her  sad.  She 
sat  back  in  her  seat  and  began  to  cry.  Her  heart  had  failed 
her  in  spite  of  her  determination  to  be  brave. 

After  a  time  she  became  more  composed.  *'It  is  not 
for  long,"  she  thought  to  herself.  "After  I  get  a  situation 
in  a  few  weeks  I  will  visit  them,  or  maybe  some  of  them 
may  come  to  see  me. ' '  Matthew  Howard  was  in  her  mind ; 
much  as  she  tried  to  dispel  him,  he  loomed  up  before  her, 
above  all  the  rest.  "In  the  meantime  I  can  write  to  them, 
and  they  to  me ;  how  pleasant  it  will  be  when  I  get  my  first 
month's  pay  to  send  it  home — every  cent  of  it  I  can  spare. 
And  then  when  I  am  in  a  position  to  pay  them  a  visit  to 
show  them  how  well  I  have  succeeded." 

And  so  she  dreamed  the  entire  journey. 

It  was  about  1  P.  M.  on  a  fine  afternoon  when  she 
arrived  in  the  great  metropolis  of  the  "West.  As  she  left 
the  depot  she  was  bewildered  at  seeing  the  busy  throng. 
She  felt  lonesome  among  the  crowd. 


32  THE  FATAL  MEETING 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  was  among  strangers 
in  a  strange  city — none  to  advise  her.  She  walked  till  she 
came  to  the  cross  section  of  two  streets. 

She  gazed  at  the  girls  as  they  went  by;  she  noticed 
their  neat  appearance,  their  style,  and  observed  that  their 
skirts  were  somewhat  longer  than  hers,  which  reached  only 
to  the  tops  of  her  neatly  laced  gaiters. 

For  a  few  moments  she  was  in  doubt  as  to  which  way 
to  turn.  She  was  looking  in  different  directions,  holding 
her  bundle  under  her  arm,  when  a  well  dressed  young  fellow 
came  along.  His  attire  was  faultless,  in  the  front  of  his 
shirt  shone  a  diamond,  he  had  a  solitaire  ring  on  his  finger, 
his  cuffs  and  collars  were  spotless,  he  wore  a  fedora  hat  and 
had  patent  leather  shoes.  As  he  drew  near  he  gazed  at  the 
girl,  she  turned  her  eyes  away  so  as  to  avert  his  stare ;  on 
reaching  her,  he  stood  in  a  very  gentlemanly  manner  and 
said: 

"You're  looking  for  a  number.  Miss?" 

She  stared  at  him  for  a  moment  before  replying. 

"I  supposed  you  were  looking  for  a  number,"  he  re- 
iterated, "and  as  I  am  very  well  acquainted  around  here  I 
thought  probably  I  might  direct  you." 

"No,  thank  you  sir,  I  was  just  thinking  which  way  I 
would  go." 

"0,  indeed!"  smiling.  "Well,  ^Nliss,  that's  north,  that's 
south  and  that  direction,"  pointing,  "is  west,  and  over 
there,"  turning  around  and  pointing,  "to  the  east  is  Lake 
Michigan." 

She  smiled  at  seeing  him  so  specific  as  to  the  points  of 
the  compass,  as  she  said : 

"Well,  you  see,  sir,  I  am  a  stranger  here  and  don't 
know  which  way  I  should  turn,  having  just  got  off  the 
train." 


TiiK  Cadkt  at  Work 


THE  FATAL  MEETING  33 

''Oh,  well,"  he  said,  laughing,  ''of  course  I  can't  direct 
you;  if  I  could,"  lifting  his  hat,  "I  would  only  be  too 
happy." 

She  looked  at  the  nicely  dressed  young  gentleman  who 
professed  such  willingness  to  direct  her,  and  then  said: 
"What  I  want  to  find  is  some  place  where  I  can  stay.  I 
have  never  been  away  from  home  before  and  am  somewhat 
awkward." 

"Oh,  I  see.  If  that  is  all  you  want  there  are  a  number 
of  hotels  within  a  block  or  two  from  here,  in  any  of  which 
you  can  be  accommodated.  Probably  you  don't  want  to 
select  a  too  highly  priced  establishment?" 

"No,  sir!  My  means  are  only  limited.  What  I  want 
is  some  place  to  stay  for  tonight,  and  tomorrow  I  will  have 
time,  probably,  to  get  board  with  some  respectable  family." 

"Well,  Miss,  if  you  would  not  think  it  presumptuous 
on  my  part,  I  would  point  out  to  you  one  or  two  places  that 
might  suit  your  circumstances.  It's  only  what  I  would 
expect  a  gentleman  to  do  for  my  sister  if  she  found  her- 
self in  a  strange  city." 

She  hesitated  before  accepting  his  proffered  aid. 

"I'll  point  them  out  to  you,  and  you  can  make  the  best 
arrangement  you  can.  You  see.  Miss,  this  is  a  very  big 
city,"  smiling,  "and  you  must  take  care  you  don't  get  lost." 

She  again  looked  at  him  without  replying.  There  was 
nothing  to  alarm  her  in  his  make-up,  he  had  the  appearance 
of  a  gentleman,  even  his  address  was  faultless,  his  refer- 
ence even  to  his  sisters  indicated  a  friendly  feeling.  Ulti- 
mately consenting  to  his  proffered  assistance,  she  said: 

"I  will  be  very  much  obliged  to  you  if  you  will." 

He  led  her  toward  Clark  street. 

"I  suppose  the  town  you  came  from  is  not  quite  as 
large  as  this?"  smiling. 


34  THE  FATAL  MEETING 

"Oh  no,  sir,  the  place  I  come  from  is  quite  small;  in 
fact,  it  seems  to  me  there  are  more  people  on  the  street  here 
than  there  are  in  my  town  altogether,"  laughing. 

"Is  that  so?    Then  it  must  be  a  very  small  place." 

"Yes,  you  see  B is  situated  in  a  farming  district." 

"Oh,  that  is  in  Michigan,  I  believe?  I  was  often  in 
Michigan,  but  was  never  there.  I  suppose  you're  only  on 
a  visit?" 

"No.    I  came  to  get  work." 

"Oh,  I  see!  Well  there's  plenty  of  work  of  all  kinds 
for  young  women  here.  I  suppose  it's  something  of  a  cleri- 
cal position  or  saleslady  you'd  want  to  be?" 

"I  am  not  particular,  probably  I  may  get  a  situation 
with  some  family.  I  have  some  experience  with  housework, 
as  we  have  quite  a  family  at  home." 

"Well,  some  places  are  pretty  hard,  especially  where 
they  have  much  washing.  At  my  house  we  have  two  girls, 
but  we  send  all  the  washing  out,  then  it  comes  easier." 

"Then  you're  a  married  man?"  looking  at  him. 

"Oh  bless  you,  no!    I  mean  the  old  people's  home." 

"I  see  you  have  brothers  and  sisters,  I  believe?" 

"No  brothers,  only  sisters;  four  of  them,  and  you  know 
girls  require  a  deal  of  laundrying  after,"  smiling  at  her. 
She  smiled  her  approval  in  turn. 

"You  go  in  and  try  this  place,"  he  said,  stopping  in 
front  of  a  cheap  looking  hotel  on  Clark  street.  "You'll 
only  be  staying  for  a  night  or  two,  anyway." 

Martha  looked  at  the  place.  It  seemed  very  imposing 
to  her. 

"How  much  do  you  think  they  would  charge  me  there?" 

"Well,  it's  on  the  European  plan.  You  just  sleep  there 
and  eat  where  you  like.  I  should  say  about  a  dollar  a 
night." 

She  thought  for  a  moment  as  if  in  doubt. 


THE  FATAL  MEETING  35 

"Go  in  and  ask  them,"  he  said  to  her,  "I'll  stay  here 
until  you  come  out.  If  it  doesn't  suit  you,  I'll  show  you 
another  place  or  two." 

The  girl  went  in  and  in  a  short  time  returned  without 
her  bundle. 

"I  see  you  have  made  arrangements;  that's  good," 

"Yes  sir,  thank  you,  I  am  sure  I  am  very  much  obliged 
to  you  for  your  kindness." 

"Don't  mention  it.  The  man  that  wouldn't  do  that 
much  for  a  lone  girl  in  a  strange  city  is  no  man  at  all.  When 
do  you  intend  to  start  out  in  search  of  a  job?" 

"I  will  have  to  begin  tomorrow  morning," 

"Probably  I  could  help  you.  If  it  wasn't  for  the  two 
girls  we  have  at  our  house  I  would  ask  our  old  woman  to 
give  you  a  place,  but  you  see  they're  stickers.  There  is 
no  danger  of  their  leaving," 

She  smiled  as  she  remarked,  "That's  very  kind  of  you," 

"Had  you  just  got  in  town  when  I  met  youf" 

"Yes  sir." 

"Probably  you  have  not  eaten  for  some  time,  then?" 

"No,  not  since  I  ate  my  breakfast,  but  I  am  not 
hungry." 

"Oh,  that's  too  bad.  Now  there's  a  nice  restaurant 
close  by.  I  suggest  that  you  come  and  take  a  little  lunch 
and  while  you  are  eating  I  may  make  some  suggestions  as 
to  where  you  may  get  a  place." 

"No,  thank  you,  sir.  I  assure  you  I  am  very  much 
obliged  to  you  for  your  assistance  already,  but  I  cannot 
impose  upon  your  good  nature." 

"Come  along,"  he  said,  laughing.  "If  you  don't  eat 
you'll  feel  so  weak  you  won't  be  able  to  work  and  people 
who  employ  girls  in  Chicago  want  them  to  be  good  and 
husky,"  smiling  at  her. 


36  THE  FATAL  MEETING 

She  still  hesitated,  but  after  some  more  pressing  con- 
sented to  go.  After  being  seated  at  a  table  arranged  for 
two,  he  took  up  the  bill  of  fare. 

"What  will  you  take,  Miss?  But  let  me  order  for  you. 
I  suppose  you  are  not  in  the  habit  of  dining  in  restaurants." 

"No,  sir.  This  is  the  first  time  I  was  ever  away  from 
home." 

He  ordered  a  dainty  meal.  The  girl  ate  with  a  relish — 
she  enjoyed  the  luncheon.  He  kept  her  in  conversation 
during  the  repast. 

"Bye  the  bye.  Miss,"  he  said,  smiling,  "we  have  not 
been  introduced  yet." 

She  laughed.     "Well,  my  name  is  Martha  Hill." 

"And  mine,"  he  said,  by  way  of  reply,  "is  Henry 
Washington." 

"You  have  quite  an  historical  name,"  she  said,  smiling. 
"What  do  you  do?" 

"Well,  you  see,  my  people  are  old  settlers.  The  old 
gent  has  retired — he  is  well  fixed.  I'm  the  only  boy,  so  have 
it  pretty  easy.  I  intend,  however,  in  the  near  future,  to 
take  up  some  profession,  but  for  the  present  I  am  a  gentle- 
man of  leisure." 

"You  tell  me  you  have  four  sisters?" 

"Yes,  two  of  them  are  older  than  I  am;  one  of  them  is 
going  to  be  married  to  a  swell  this  fall,  so  we'll  get  rid  of 
her.  Waiter,  how  much  do  I  owe  you?"  He  hands  him 
a  check  for  $1.30.  Young  Washington  pulls  out  a  roll 
of  bills,  giving  two  dollars  to  the  waiter,  who  returns  him 
his  change,  which  he  gathers  from  a  little  tray  on  which 
it  has  been  presented,  leaving  the  two  dimes  as  a  tip. 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  the  waiter,  as  he  took  his  leave. 

Martha  Hill  begins  to  be  impressed  by  the  offhand, 
gentlemanly  conduct  of  her  new  found  acquaintance. 


THE  FATAL  MEETING  37 

''Now,  Miss  Hill,  if  you  would  allow  me  to  smoke  a 
cigaret  we'll  go." 

She  nods  and  smiles,  while  he  lights  his  cigaret. 

"I  suppose  you  have  brothers  and  sisters  too?"  he  said 
between  the  puffs. 

"Yes,  my  brother  Robert's  the  oldest.  There  are  five 
younger  than  I  am." 

"Father  and  mother  living?" 

"Yes,  but  father  has  been  troubled  with  rheumatism 
so  long  that  Robert  has  to  take  care  of  the  family.  You 
see  there  are  no  places  for  girls  in  our  town,  so  I  came  to 
Chicago  to  get  a  situation,  so  that  I  can  help  them.  Do 
you  think  I  will  have  any  trouble  to  get  a  place?" 

"None  whatever.  There  are  plenty  of  opportunities 
for  girls  like  you  here." 

"I  am  pleased  to  hear  you  say  that,  as  I  was  a  little 
anxious." 

"You  needn't  be.  I'll  probably  get  my  old  man  to 
speak  for  you.  Come,  let  us  be  going.  Now  as  I  have  notii- 
ing  to  do  this  afternoon,  I'll  show  you  a  little  of  the  city." 

"I  am  afraid  to  go  too  far  away  from  the  hotel,  for 
fear  I  wouldn't  find  my  way  back." 

"Oh,  I'll  bring  you  back.    You  needn't  be  afraid." 

After  strolling  through  the  downton  district  for  over 
a  couple  of  hours,  she  was  impressed  with  the  wonders  she 
saw  —  the  busy  streets,  the  crowded  sidewalks,  the  rushing 
street  cars,  the  large  buildings. 

"Dear  me,  I  am  surprised  a  great  many  people  are  not 


run  over 


I" 


' '  There  are  lots  run  over,  Miss.  You  have  to  keep  your 
eyes  and  ears  open  in  Chicago  or  you're  a  goner." 

"It  seems  that  way  to  me.  Aren't  those  beautiful 
stores?    I  would  like  to  get  a  place  in  one  of  them." 


38  THE  FATAL  MEETING 

"Well,  we'll  go  through  this  one.  You'll  see  how  they 
run  it." 

"Those  ladies  must  have  nice  salaries,"  she  remarked 
as  they  went  through  the  store. 

"Some  of  them.  My  old  man  is  a  friend  of  the  proprie- 
tors here.    I'll  have  him  talk  for  you." 

"I  wish  you  would.  I  am  sure  I  would  like  to  get  a 
place  in  a  store  like  this." 

"Well,  Martha,  I'll  talk  to  him.  Come  now,  I  am  get- 
ting tired.  I'll  take  you  for  a  car  ride.  You  may  as  well 
make  an  afternoon  of  it." 

Her  hope  of  his  aid  in  securing  her  a  place  led  her  to 
consent  to  go,  but  not  without  some  misgivings  as  to  the 
propriety  of  her  accompanying  a  total  stranger. 

He  took  her  to  Lincoln  Park,  where  he  showed  her  the 
animals — none  of  which  were  more  ferocious  than  the  wolf 
into  whose  hands  she  fell  an  easy  victim. 

'Twas  dark  when  they  left  the  park.  A  supper  in  a 
north  side  restaurant,  where  wines  and  liquors  were  sold, 
followed. 

"Did  you  ever  drink  any  wine?" 

"Yes,  mother  used  to  make  some." 

"Well,  I  will  have  to  buy  you  a  little  glass  of  port  to 
see  if  you  can  tell  the  difference." 

After  it  was  brought  Martha  Hill  remarked : 

"It  is  sweeter  than  what  mother  made." 

"It  is  better  too,  I  guess,"  smiling,  and  lighting  a 
cigaret. 

"Don't  you  think  it's  about  time  I  should  be  going?" 

"In  a  few  moments.  I  want  to  smoke  another  cigaret. 
You'd  better  go  to  the  ladies'  toilet  and  wash  your  hands. 
You  look  a  little  mussed  up  after  the  day." 


THE  FATAL  MEETING  39 

She  felt  glad  at  his  timely  suggestion,  and  the  manner 
in  which  he  had  proposed  it.  While  she  was  gone  he  or- 
dered two  port  wines.  As  soon  as  the  waiter  turned  his 
back  he  dropped  a  little  powder  into  hers,  and  stirred  it 
around  with  a  lead  pencil. 

She  returned  radiant,  having  washed  and  smoothed 
her  hair,  the  bloom  of  youth  was  on  her  cheek. 

''Now  you  look  better,"  smiling  at  her. 

"Let  us  be  going,"  she  replied,  paying  no  attention  to 
his  compliment. 

"I  have  ordered  another  glass  of  wine  for  you." 

"I  think  I  should  not  drink  it." 

"Why,  that's  only  the  second.  Sit  down  a  minute." 
He  lit  another  cigaret,  and  she  sipped  at  the  wine. 

"That's  not  as  nice  as  the  first." 

He  sips  at  his.    "A  little  sourer,  that's  all." 

She  drinks  the  fatal  draught. 

"Let  us  be  going,"  she  says  with  some  impatience. 

"Wait  a  moment  until  I  finish  another  cigaret.  No,  I 
think  I'll  try  a  cigar.  Here,  waiter,  bring  me  a  cigar." 
The  cigar  is  brought,  he  lights  it. 

"Hurry,  let  us  be  going." 

"Wait  till  I  have  smoked  my  cigar.  Will  you  have 
another  glass  of  wine?" 

"No,  that  last  didn't  agree  with  me." 

"Then  let  us  be  going."  They  walked  along  North 
Clark  street.    After  walking  a  few  blocks,  she  said: 

"I  don't  feel  well.     I  am  quite  dizzy." 

"Then  I  must  hire  a  cab." 

She  leaned  heavily  on  his  arm,  while  he  hailed  a  passing 
cabman.  He  placed  her  in  the  cab,  where  she  fell  back  on 
the  rear  seat. 


40  THE  FATAL  MEETING 

"Drive  to  Madam  ,  Custom  House  place.     You 

know  the  house?" 
*'Yes,  sir." 

"Drive  around  to  the  rear." 
"Yes,  sir." 


SOLD,  AND  PAID  FOR  41 


CHAPTER  VL 
SOLD,  AND  PAID  FOR. 

Ike  Rosenthal,  alias  Henry  Washington,  knocked  at  the 
door  of  Sadie  Blomgarten's  bedroom.  There  was  no  answer. 
He  knocked  again.  Still  no  answer.  The  third  time  he 
knocked  he  waited  a  few  moments.  There  being  no  reply, 
he  pushed  the  door  open  and  went  in.  Madam  Blomgarten 
was  sound  asleep.  He  placed  his  hand  on  her  shoulder  and 
shook  her.    She  looked  up  at  him. 

''What  do  you  want,  Ike?  Why  don't  you  let  me 
sleep?" 

"I  want  my  money." 

"Why  can't  you  wait  till  I  get  up?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  want  to  stay  here  till  you  get  up.  Come 
give  me  the  dough  and  let  me  get  out  of  here." 

"What  a  hurry  you're  in.  I  didn't  get  to  bed  until 
four  o'clock.    What  time  is  it?" 

"Seven.    Come  shake  yourself  and  give  me  my  money." 

"How  much  do  you  want?" 

"Seventy-five  dollars." 

"I  can't  afford  it,  you  ought  to  be  satisfied  with  fifty." 

"No,  not  a  cent  less  than  seventy-five.  She's  cheap  at 
that.  If  I  had  taken  her  to  Dutch  Meg's  I  could  have  got 
a  hundred  for  her." 

"You're  a  regular  Shylock.     Won't  sixty  do?" 

"No!  not  a  cent  less  than  seventy-five.  She's  a  catch. 
Just  from  the  country." 

"Wait  till  I  get  up." 


42  SOLD,  AND  PAID  FOR 

"Well,  get  up  now.    I've  no  time  to  waste." 

The  madam  sat  on  the  side  of  the  bed.  "You're  sure 
she's  a  stranger?" 

"Right  in  off  the  train." 

"Oh,  dear,  what  a  head  I  have  and  you  come  and  waken 
me,  just  when  I  was  sound  asleep.  You're  a  brute."  She 
put  her  hand  under  the  mattress  at  the  head  of  her  bed 
and  pulled  out  a  roll  of  bills  and  counted  sixty-five  dollars. 
"There!"  giving  it  to  him. 

"Come  on  now,  ten  more."  She  demurred,  but,  he  per- 
sisting, she  gave  it  to  him,  at  the  same  time  telling  him  to 
get  out.  At  that  moment  there  was  a  piercing  scream  heard 
that  rang  through  the  building. 

"That's  her,  I  suppose,"  as  he  put  the  money  with  a 
roll  of  bills  in  his  pocket. 

"Tell  Mugsy  to  attend  to  her,  as  you  go  out.  I  must 
try  and  get  a  few  hours  sleep,"  rolling  into  bed.  Ike  told 
Mugsy,  and  then  went  his  way. 

"When  Martha  Hill  awoke  she  had  an  intense  pain  in 
her  head.  She  looked  up  at  the  ceiling.  It  was  slanting 
like  the  roof.  She  gave  a  start,  turning  in  the  bed  as  if  to 
see  if  she  had  a  companion.  On  the  other  pillow  there  was 
the  impression  of  a  head  as  if  some  one  had  lain  there.  The 
clothes  were  turned  up  as  if  someone  had  recently  left.  She 
started  again  and  removing  the  clothes  from  her  breast,  she 
saw  she  was  naked.  She  jumped  out  of  bed  and  ran  to  the 
slanting  window  on  the  i-oof.  It  was  barred.  She  ran  to 
try  the  door.  It  was  locked.  She  looked  around  to  seek  her 
clothing.  Not  a  stitch  of  her  raiment  was  to  be  found.  She 
screamed  in  her  fright.  She  tried  the  handle  of  the  door 
again,  and  screamed.  She  ran  to  the  window.  It  was 
securely  boarded.     She  screamed  again.     At  this  moment 


SOLD,  AND  PAID  FOR  43 

a  policeman  was  walking  past  the  front  of  the  house,  wav- 
ing his  club. 

"What's  that  one  shouting  at?"  he  said  to  a  colored 
woman  who  was  washing  the  marble  steps, 

*'0,  a  couple  of  the  girls  have  been  having  a  scrap; 
one  of  them's  full,  and  she's  got  the  worst  of  it." 

"It's  a  wonder  they  wouldn't  put  a  wisp  in  her  mouth," 
he  said  as  he  passed  by,  and  turned  into  the  next  saloon. 

The  girl  in  the  attic  continued  to  scream.  She  heard 
footsteps  climbing  the  stairs.  She  stood  as  did  Eve  before 
the  fall,  to  see  who  was  unlocking  the  door.  A  low-browed, 
coarse  man  entered.  She  ran  to  the  bed,  and  covered  her- 
self up. 

* '  What  the  hell  are  you  shouting  about  ?  "  he  said,  look- 
ing fiercely  at  her.  "Do  you  want  to  waken  up  the  whole 
house?" 

Her  teeth  were  chattering — she  couldn't  reply. 

"What  are  you  yelling  at?"  going  toward  the  bed  and 
pulling  the  clothes  off  her. 

"Oh  mister,  why  am  I  here?"  trembling  in  every  limb. 

"We  didn't  bring  you  here,"  he  growled.  "You  came 
yourself  and  brought  a  bloke  with  you." 

"No!    Oh  no!    I  didn't  bring  anyone  with  me!" 

"What  are  you  giving  us?"  he  snarled. 

"Oh  no,  sir,  I  didn't  bring  anyone  with  me.  I  don't 
know  how  I  came  here." 

"Well,  you  lie  still  there,  and  don't  be  making  such  a 
fuss,  or  I'll  find  a  way  to  quiet  you." 

"Where  are  my  clothes?" 

He  looked  around  as  if  in  search  of  them.  "That  bloke 
you  brought  here  with  you  last  night  must  have  taken  them 
away  with  him." 


44  SOLD,  AND  PAID  FOR 

''Oh,  my  God!"  she  exclaimed,  as  she  laid  her  head  on 
the  pillow  and  wept. 

"You  lie  still  there,"  as  he  was  going  toward  the  door. 

"Is  there  no  woman  in  this  house?"  she  inquired  as 
she  saw  him  going. 

"Yes,  but  there's  none  of  them  up  yet." 

"Will  you  send  one  of  them  to  me?"  she  entreated. 

"There'll  be  none  of  them  up  for  a  couple  of  hours 
yet,"  he  growled,  as  he  went  out,  pulling  the  door  after 
him  and  locking  it. 

She  lay  shivering,  crying,  and  moaning  on  the  bed. 
It  Avas  near  midday  when  she  heard  the  key  turn  in  the 
door ;  a  woman  entered — she  was  large  and  wore  a  dressing 
gown. 

"Well,  what's  the  matter?"  she  said,  as  she  entered. 

"Oh,  madam,  are  you  mistress  of  this  house?" 

' '  Yes,  what  can  I  do  for  you  ? ' ' 

"How  came  I  here?     Tell  me!" 

"Well  you  and  your  husband  came  here  last  night,  as 
I  understand." 

"I  have  no  husband.     It's  some  cruel  mistake." 

"Well,  you  passed  him  off  as  your  husband,  and  seemed 
to  be  very  friendly  with  him." 

"You  know  that's  not  true;  I  wasn't  friendly  with  any- 
one. I  did  meet  a  young  man  yesterday,  but  I  don't  know 
him  at  all.    He  was  a  stranger  to  me." 

"Well  you  and  him  seemed  to  get  on  very  well  to- 
gether when  you  came,  and  engaged  this  room," 

"Don't!    Don't  tell  me  that!    Where  is  he  now?" 

"He  said  when  he  was  going  away  he  would  be  back 
for  3'ou  this  evening.  He  had  a  large  bundle  with  him 
when  he  left." 

"Where  are  my  clothes?" 


SOLD,  AND  PAID  FOR  45 

''My  man  tells  me  he  believes  he  took  them  away  with 
him." 

"Well,  where  is  the  bundle  I  left  here  yesterday?" 

"You  left  no  bundle  here  yesterday.  When  you  came 
here  at  nine  o'clock,  you  had  no  bundle." 

"Don't  be  so  cruel  as  to  tell  me  that;  no  man  would 
leave  me  here.  Oh,  madam,  let  me  write  to  my  parents,  my 
brothers,  and  tell  them  what  has  happened.  Do,  for  God's 
sake,  do!" 

"I  can't  do  that  till  I  hear  from  your  fellow  tonight; 
he  even  left  without  paying  the  room  rent." 

' '  I  implore  you  to  help  me.  I  am  a  lone  girl  in  a  strange 
city.    Do,  and  heaven  will  bless  you." 

"Heaven  won't  pay  this  room  rent,  and  I  can't  be  im- 
posed upon." 

"I  appeal  to  you  as  to  a  mother,  on  my  knees."  Get- 
ting out  of  the  bed  and  falling  on  her  knees,  she  hung  onto 
the  woman's  skirts. 

"No  use  of  you  talking,  you  will  have  to  wait  until 
your  husband,  or  whoever  he  is,  comes  this  evening.  I  can't 
afford  to  have  a  scandal  around  my  place,  so  you'll  have  to 
content  yourself;"  rising  to  go. 

"Don't  leave  me,  I  implore  you.  Help  me,  and  my 
friends  will  reward  you." 

"I'll  send  you  up  something  to  eat.  That's  all  I  can 
do  for  you  at  present,  and  I  don't  know  who  is  going  to 
pay  me." 

' '  Let  me  write  to  my  people.  They  will  pay  you  every- 
thing." 

"Well,  I  will  see,  but  you  have  no  clothes." 

"You  can  let  me  have  some  until  I  hear  from  my 
parents.  Telegraph  for  me  and  my  brother  will  be  here 
tomorrow. ' ' 


46  SOLD,  AND  PAID  FOR 

''Talk  is  cheap.  How  am  I  going  to  know  whether  you 
have  a  brother  or  not?  I'm  going  to  wait  till  I  see  if  your 
fellow  shows  up." 

She  hung  onto  the  woman's  skirt.    She  pleaded  in  vain. 

"Come,  don't  be  wasting  my  time.  I've  told  you  what 
I'll  do.  Let  go  my  dress.  I'll  send  you  up  something  to 
eat." 

"I  don't  want  to  eat." 

"Well,  that's  your  business,"  as  she  went  out,  locking 
the  door  behind  her. 

Martha  went  back  to  the  bed.  She  swooned,  and  for 
a  time  was  oblivious  to  her  surroundings. 

A  colored  woman  came  in,  carrying  a  tray  on  which 
there  was  a  cup  of  tea  and  some  bread  and  butter.  She 
pulled  a  chair  over  near  the  bed,  placing  the  tray  on  it, 
and  left  the  room. 

How  long  she  lay  unconscious,  Martha  never  knew. 
She  awoke  and  looked  around  to  see  if  it  was  but  a  fitful 
dream.  She  realized  the  horrible  situation.  She  was  too 
weak  to  scream.  The  shades  of  night  fell.  She  was  alone  in 
the  dark,  she  could  do  nothing  but  bemoan  her  fate.  After 
a  time,  she  heard  a  piano  playing,  and  sounds  of  laughter 
downstairs.  She  arose,  and  staggered  to  the  door  to  listen. 
Her  tongue  cleft  to  the  roof  of  her  mouth.  She  couldn't 
utter  a  sound.  She  went  and  lay  down  on  the  bed.  Again 
she  felt  as  if  she  was  about  to  die  —  she  hoped  that  she 
might.  At  last  exhausted  nature  came  to  her  relief,  and  she 
slept — how  long  she  didn't  know.  When  she  awoke,  all  was 
dark,  but  the  sound  of  revelry  could  be  heard  from  below. 
She  groped  for  the  tray.  She  reached  the  cup,  she  had  to 
drink.  She  lay  back  on  the  bed.  All  hope  had  fled.  After 
a  while  the  colored  woman  came  to  remove  the  tray.  She 
had  a  candle  in  her  hand.     She  looked  at  the  girl  lying  on 


;.-  tioKeijvoifVC^'.biOf? 


Thk  VicriM 


SOLD,  AND  PAID  FOR  47 

the  bed.  The  girl's  eyes  were  open;  her  stare  was  vacant. 
The  colored  woman  reported  to  her  mistress  that  the  girl  up 
in  the  attic  was  in  bad  shape. 

"Well,  you  and  Mugsy  must  go  and  give  her  something 
to  soothe  her.    She'll  be  all  right  in  the  morning." 

;Mugsy  and  the  negress  came  into  the  attic. 

"How  are  you  now?"  inquired  the  ruffian. 

Martha  made  no  reply. 

He  beckoned  to  the  negress  who,  stooping  over  her, 
pinioned  her  arms.  The  girl  felt  a  stinging  pain  in  her  arm. 
She  screamed. 

"There  now,  that  will  do  you  good,"  he  said.  "Per- 
haps your  fellow  will  turn  up  soon.  Lie  down."  The  col- 
ored woman  placed  the  clothes  over  her  breast  and  should- 
ers.   They  then  left  her  alone. 


48  THE  AVHITE  SLAVE 

CHAPTER  Vn. 
THE  WHITE  SLAVE. 

When  she  awoke  the  morning  after,  she  gazed  up  at 
the  ceiling,  the  same  dismal  surroundings  confronted  her. 
She  looked  at  the  chair  by  her  bedside,  and  saw  that 
some  one  had  been  in  the  room  while  she  slept,  as  a  jug  of 
tea,  a  plate  with  toast,  and  a  glass  with  amber-colored  liquid 
rested  on  a  tray  on  the  chair.  She  smelled  of  the  liquid  in 
the  glass.  She  hoped  it  might  be  poison,  but  judged  it  was 
whiskey  or  brandy — she  could  not  tell  which.  She  laid  it 
down,  and,  clasping  her  hands  together,  prayed  that  God 
in  his  mercy  might  take  her.  She  felt  weak.  She  extended 
her  hand,  and  drank  some  of  the  tea,  and  took  a  mouthful 
of  the  bread.  She  lay  back  on  the  bed  and  covered  herself 
up.  She  felt  cold,  her  teeth  began  to  chatter.  She  betliought 
herself  that  the  liquor  might  warm  her — she  drank  some  of 
it,  and  lay  down  to  think.  She  couldn't  think — she  couldn't 
cry !  Despair  had  dried  the  fount ;  her  heart  was  chilled. 
She  knew  not  what  time  it  was,  Tlie  sun's  rays  shone 
bright  through  the  attic  window,  casting  a  ray  of  light  on 
the  floor.  She  listened.  The  door  was  being  unlocked. 
The  woman  she  had  seen  the  day  before  entered.  The  girl 
merely  looked  at  her. 

"Well,  how  are  you  this  morning?  That  fellow  of  yours 
never  turned  up  after  all.  Tm  afraid  he  is  going  to  desert 
you. ' ' 

"All  seem  to  have  deserted  me," 

"Well,  you  can't  say  1  have.     I  sent  you  up  some  .sup- 


THE  WHITE  SLAVE  49 

per,  and  yonr  breakfast,  and  a  drink.  I  see  you  haven't 
drunk  it  all." 

"No,  I  don't  want  it.  I  am  cold.  Can't  you  give  me 
some  night  clothes,  and  let  me  send  to  my  father  and 
mother?" 

"You'd  be  in  a  nice  position  to  send  to  your  father  and 
mother,  and  tell  them  you  had  picked  up  a  fellow  in  Chi- 
cago and  spent  the  night  with  him  in  a  rooming  house." 

"I  don't  care.    My  parents  would  believe  me." 

"Rot!  They  wouldn't  believe  anything  you'd  say.  I 
would  have  to  tell  them  the  truth." 

The  girl  commenced  to  cry. 

"Well,  then  tell  the  authorities,"  she  said,  amidst  her 
tears.  "Go  bring  a  policeman.  I  will  explain  everything  to 
him." 

"I  would  look  nice  to  bring  a  policeman  in  here  and 
have  a  sensation.    What's  your  name?" 

"Martha  Hill.     My  father  lives  at  B ,  Michigan. 

My  brother  lives  with  him.  He  will  come,  if  you  only  send 
for  them." 

"I'll  see.  I  must  leave  you  now,  but  I  will  send  you 
up  some  dinner,  and  will  be  back  in  an  hour  or  so,  and  talk 
business  to  you."  She  left,  carefully  locking  the  door  after 
her. 

A  short  time  after  the  colored  woman  entered,  carrying 
a  tray  on  which  was  a  small  teapot,  some  bread  and  butter, 
a  plate  of  meat  and  potatoes,  and  a  glass  of  spirits. 
When  she  entered  the  door,  she  locked  it  on  the  inside,  plac- 
ing the  key  in  her  pocket.  The  girl  on  the  bed  watched  her 
every  movement.  She  removed  the  tray  that  she  had  brought 
up  in  the  morning,  and  substituted  the  one  she  brought 
with  her. 


50  THE  WHITE  SLAVE 

"Get  up,  I  want  to  make  this  bed,"  she  said,  placing 
another  chair  for  the  girl  to  sit  on.    The  girl  arose. 

"Throw  this  over  your  shoulders,"  tossing  the  coun- 
terpane to  her.  She  proceeded  to  make  the  bed,  while  the 
famished  girl  began  to  eat.  The  bed  made,  the  colored 
woman  took  the  tray  she  had  brought  with  her  in  the  morn- 
ing, the  jug  and  the  plate,  the  brandy  that  still  remained 
in  the  glass  she  poured  into  the  one  she  had  just  left,  and 
retired  without  exchanging  another  word. 

It  was  considerable  time  after,  when  the  mistress  of 
the  house  entered  her  room.  She  saw  that  the  girl  had 
eaten,  and  di-unk  some  of  the  tea. 

"You  didn't  take  your  drink,  I  see." 

"No,  I  don't  want  it." 

"Well,  it  would  do  you  good,  and  would  put  life  into 
you." 

The  girl  made  no  reply. 

"Now,  you  talk  about  wanting  some  night  clothes?" 

"Yes.    Can  you  lend  me  some?" 

"Why,  girl,  my  things  wouldn't  fit  you." 

"Well,  there  are  some  girls  in  the  house,  Yom*  daugh- 
ters, perhaps.  Couldn't  you  ask  one  of  them  to  lend  me 
some?" 

"I  have  no  daughters.  They  are  only  boarders,  and  I 
could  not  ask  them.  But,  I  tell  you  what  I  will  do :  1  '11  buy 
you  some  while  I'm  out,  and  you  can  pay  me  back  when 
you  get  some  money." 

"How  am  I  to  get  money  to  pay  you  back,  until  I  can 
get  out  to  earn  some,  or  I  hear  from  my  people?" 

"Well,  never  mind.  "While  I  am  out,  I  will  buy  you  a 
few  things,  and  I  will  tell  yo\i  how  to  get  the  money.  I 
won't  be  gone  over  a  couple  of  hours." 


THE  WHITE  SLAVE  51 

' '  What  kind  of  a  house  is  this  ? ' '  inquired  the  girl,  rais- 
ing herself  in  the  bed. 

"You'll  soon  find  out,"  said  the  woman,  as  she  pre- 
pared to  leave. 

It  was  near  dusk,  when  the  colored  woman  entered, 
carrying  a  paper  box  under  her  arm,  and  a  slop  basin  in  her 
hand.  She  laid  the  box  down,  and,  removing  the  slops, 
said: 

"I  am  going  to  bring  you  up  some  water  to  wash  you." 

The  girl  could  do  nothing  but  stare  at  her,  as  she  took 
her  leave,  locking  the  door,  as  usual,  behind  her.  In  a  short 
time  she  returned  with  a  jug  containing  warm  water,  wash- 
basin, soap,  towel,  comb  and  brush.  A  looking-glass  already 
hung  on  the  wall. 

"Now  get  up  and  wash  yourself.  There  are  some 
clothes  in  the  box  madam  has  sent  you." 

As  soon  as  the  negress  had  taken  her  departure,  the 
girl  arose  and  opened  the  box.  It  contained  a  chemise,  a 
pair  of  light  blue  stockings  long  enough  to  come  above  the 
knees — the  tag  attached  was  marked  five  dollars;  a  pair 
of  red  silk  garters  with  clasps  marked  two  dollars,  and  a 
pair  of  light  blue  slippers,  a  light  blue  like  the  stockings, 
with  high  red  heels,  marked  four  dollars.  The  girl  looked 
at  them  in  wonder.  "What  do  I  want  with  those?"  she 
said  to  herself.  "Surely  this  is  a  mistake."  She  put  the 
stockings,  slippers  and  garters  back  in  the  box.  She  washed 
herself,  carefully  combed  her  hair,  and  put  on  the  chemise. 
In  spite  of  the  agony  of  her  heart  she  felt  some  relief. 

The  colored  woman  returned  shortly  after  she  had  com- 
pleted her  toilet,  bringing  a  tray  on  which  were  some  eat- 
ables, and  a  glass  containing  liquor. 

"Those  things  are  not  for  me,"  said  the  girl,  pointing 
to  the  box. 


52  .  THE  WHITE  SLAVE 

"They're  what  the  madam  sent  up,"  replied  the  woman, 
gathering  up  some  empty  dishes  and  placing  them  on  a  tray. 

"Madam  will  be  up  in  a  short  while,  and  you  can  talk 
to  her  about  them."  She  took  her  departure.  The  girl 
stared  at  her  until  she  heard  the  key  turn  in  the  lock. 

It  was  long  after  dark  when  the  mistress  of  the  house 
entered  the  attic.  She  had  a  candle-stick  in  her  hand.  By 
the  light  of  the  candle  the  girl  could  see  she  was  dressed  in 
evening  costume.  Her  raiment  seemed  of  the  costliest  char- 
acter. She  had  many  rings  on  her  fingers,  a  diamond  brooch 
on  her  breast,  and  a  pair  of  long  pendant  earrings  in  her 
ears,  a  diamond  sparkling  on  the  front  of  each  of  them. 
The  girl  looked  at  her  in  astonishment. 

"Well,  how  are  you,  my  dear?"  she  said,  seating  her- 
self on  the  bed.  "I  see  a  marked  improvement  in  you.  That 
is  a  very  nice  undergarment  I  bought  3'ou,"  placing  her 
hand  on  the  lace  that  covered  the  girl's  bust. 

"Yes,  but  I  didn't  want  you  to  buy  me  anything  so 
costly,  and  what  are  those  things  in  the  box  for?  I  am  sure 
I  don't  want  them." 

"0  yes,  you  do,"  she  said,  smiling.  "Did  you  try 
them  on?" 

"No.    I  have  no  use  for  them." 

"Come  now,  don't  be  foolish.  You'll  want  them.  Why, 
you'll  look  swell  in  them." 

"But  I  don't  want  to  look  swell." 

"What!    Have  you  no  pride?" 

"No,  you  should  have  bought  me  a  petticoat  and  a 
dress  and  a  pair  of  shoes  so  that  I  might  have  gone  out  and 
sought  a  situation,  so  that  I  could  have  paid  you  back." 

"Never  mind  the  situation.  You'll  soon  l)e  a])le  to  pay 
me  back.    There  is  a  gentleman  coming  to  see  you  tonight. 


THE  WHITE  SLAVE  53 

He  is  a  first-class,  generous  fellow.  Probably  he  will  be  able 
to  do  something  for  you.    See  and  treat  him  nicely." 

"I  don't  want  to  see  any  gentleman!    Who  is  he?" 

"Wait  till  you  meet  him.    You'll  find  him  all  right." 

The  girl  was  bewildered  for  an  answer, 

"I  see  you  haven't  taken  the  drink  I  sent.  You  had 
better  take  some  of  it.  You'll  want  to  keep  up  your  strength. 
Come,  take  a  drink,"  picking  up  the  glass  and  placing  it 
to  the  girl's  mouth. 

"No,  don't  ask  me  to  drink  that!" 

"Well,  you'll  have  to  take  some  of  it,"  looking  sternly 
at  the  girl.    "I  can't  have  you  sick  on  my  hands." 

The  girl  opened  her  mouth  to  take  a  sip.  The  woman 
forced  her  to  take  a  good  drink  of  the  raw  brandy,  which 
burned  her  mouth,  and  brought  on  a  violent  fit  of  coughing, 

"Now  I'm  going  to  leave  you."  As  she  left,  the  sound 
of  piano  playing  vibrated  throughout  the  room.  She  could 
hear  voices  and  laughter  below.  After  a  time  she  fell 
asleep,  and  dreamed  of  home,  the  happy,  virtuous  home  she 
had  left.  She  saw  her  father  smoking  his  pipe  in  the  cor- 
ner, her  mother  sewing.  Bob,  her  big  brother,  reading  a 
book,  the  younger  children  playing  a  game  on  the  table. 
She  was  siding  away  the  dishes  that  had  been  used  at  the 
supper  table.  She  awoke  with  a  smile  on  her  countenance. 
She  heard  the  key  turning  in  her  attic  prison.  The  colored 
woman  was  ushering  a  man  into  the  attic.  He  was  a  large, 
showily-dressed  fellow,  wearing  a  thick  heavy  gold  chain 
across  his  breast.  He  had  two  large  rings  on  one  of  the 
fingers  of  his  right  hand,  a  diamond  stud  in  his  breast. 
The  colored  woman  placed  the  lighted  candle  on  a  chair. 

"Knock  when  you  want  to  go,"  she  said  as  she  retired, 
locking  the  door  behind  her. 


54  THE  WHITE  SLAVE 

He  pulled  a  chair  up  close  to  the  bed.  "How  do  you 
do  this  evening,  Miss?"  grinning  at  her. 

She  stared  at  him  without  replying. 

"You're  not  very  sociable?"  he  remarked. 

Her  heart  began  to  pulsate  rapidly.  "What  do  you 
want?"  she  cried,  her  breath  coming  fast. 

He  laughed.  "You  know  what  I  want.  I  am  going  to 
spend  the  night  with  you.  You'll  find  me  a  pretty  good  sort 
of  fellow." 

She  was  speechless ;  hope  had  fled,  she  was  incapable  of 
resistance.  As  he  was  ready  to  leave  in  the  morning,  he 
placed  a  ten-dollar  bill  on  the  pillow  beside  her,  and,  taking 
her  head  in  his  hands,  placed  his  foul  mouth  to  hers,  and 
kissed  her.  She  turned,  and,  observing  the  ten-dollar  bill 
on  the  pillow  beside  her,  brushed  it  off  as  if  it  was  some 
loathsome  insect.    It  fell  to  the  floor. 


INITIATED  55 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
INITIATED. 

The  following  day,  the  negress  brought  her  breakfast, 
leaving  it  on  the  chair  beside  her.  There  was  a  glass  con- 
taining spirits. 

' '  I  am  going  to  bring  you  up  some  water,  to  wash  your- 
self." 

The  girl  was  silent.  She  knew  an  appeal  to  the  colored 
woman  would  avail  her  nothing.  She  ate  some  of  the  food, 
and  took  a  drink  of  the  spirits;  her  exhausted  condition 
prompted  her. 

In  a  short  time,  the  colored  woman  returned  with  water 
and  towels.  After  removing  the  slops,  and  cleaning  out  the 
handbasin  which  had  been  used  by  the  man,  she  said,  "Get 
up  now,  and  wash  yourself."  The  girl  showed  an  inclina- 
tion to  lie. 

' '  Come,  get  up ! "  the  negress  said,  stripping  the  clothes 
from  her.    The  girl  arose  and  proceeded  to  do  as  told. 

"Give  yourself  a  good  wash,"  said  the  colored  woman, 
as  she  left,  taking  the  tray  and  tin  slop  pail  with  her,  care- 
fully locking  the  door  as  she  left. 

The  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens  when  the  mistress  of 
the  house  entered  the  prison  chamber.  "How  are  you  now, 
my  dear  ?  Your  gentleman  friend  who  visited  you  last  night 
spoke  well  of  you.  He  said  you  were  a  very  nice  girl,  and 
he  is  coming  to  see  you  again."  She  noticed  the  ten-dollar 
bill  lying  on  the  floor  where  the  girl  had  pushed  it.    Pick- 


56  INITIATED 

ing  it  up,  she  said,  ''Well,  this  is  pretty  good.  I  told  you 
he  was  a  generous  fellow." 

The  girl  had  no  reply  to  make  to  her  comments. 

"How  long  are  you  going  to  keep  me  here?"  she  in- 
quired. 

"That  depends  upon  yourself.  You  see  I  have  laid  out 
a  considerable  amount  on  you  already,  and  I  must  get  it 
back.    I  will  put  five  dollars  of  this  to  your  credit." 

"I  don't  want  those  things  in  the  box." 

"Well  they  won't  take  them  back,  so  you  will  have  to 
pay  for  them. ' ' 

"You  have  me  a  prisoner  here.  Why  do  you  detain 
me?" 

"You  wouldn't  expect  me  to  let  you  go  owing  me 
money?    You  must  think  I'm  easy." 

The  girl  started  to  weep. 

"I  must  go,"  said  the  woman.  "It  is  now  luncheon 
time  and  the  boarders  will  be  waiting.  I  will  send  you  up 
some  dinner."    She  retired  without  another  word. 

Martha  Hill  lay  in  the  attic  for  nearly  a  week.  She  had 
many  visitors — flashily  dressed  red-faced  animals,  saloon- 
keepers, bartenders,  and  gamblers — the  class  that  Madam 
Blomgarten  could  rely  upon  to  break  in  her  tyros.  They 
were  safe  men,  thoroughly  reliable  and  in  harmony  with  her 
methods  and  calling. 

Broken  in  spirit,  her  strength  failing,  Martha  made  a 
pitiful  appeal  to  the  woman  to  take  her  out  of  the  place 
where  she  lay. 

"How  are  you  going  to  do  without  clothes?" 

"You  must  get  me  some.    I'll  die  if  you  keep  me  here." 

"Now,  you  shouldn't  expect  me  to  do  too  much  for  you. 
I  don't  feel  like  trusting  you." 


INITIATED  57 

"You  may  trust  me.  If  you  let  me  go,  I  won't  betray 
you." 

"Well,  you  must  stay  for  a  time  anyway,  I  think  you 
are  doing  very  nicely,  and  will  soon  have  lots  of  friends." 

"I  don't  want  such  friends." 

"0  come  now,  girls  like  you  who  pick  up  fellows  on  the 
street,  and  get  gay  with  them,  all  say  the  same." 

"I  have  told  you  I  did  not  pick  anyone  up  on  the 
street. ' ' 

"Well,  then,  he  picked  you  up,  and  you  came  willingly 
with  him.    That's  the  same  thing." 

To  this  argument  she  had  no  reply. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do,"  she  said.  "I  will  furnish 
you  clothes  and  you  can  come  down  and  stay  with  the 
boarders,  if  you  will  promise  not  to  leave  until  you  pay  me 
what  you  owe." 

There  was  no  other  alternative,  the  girl  bowed  her 
acquiescence,  prompted  by  a  prospect  to  escape. 

That  same  afternoon  the  keeper  of  the  house  entered 
the  room  with  some  clothing  on  her  arm.  There  was  a  clean 
chemise  with  elaborate  lace  around  the  neck,  similar  to  the 
one  she  was  wearing,  a  corset,  two  petticoats,  one  Avhite  with 
lace  round  the  skirt,  and  a  silk  gauze  shirt  as  thin  as  spider's 
web,  and  nearly  as  transparent  as  glass.  The  girl  looked  at 
it — she  had  never  seen  anything  like  it  before. 

"What  is  that  for?"  she  inquired,  looking  at  the  madam 
holding  it  up  for  her  inspection. 

"This  is  only  worn  on  state  occasions.  All  our  board- 
ers wear  them." 

"Is  it  an  outer  garment?" 

"No,  you  innocent,  it's  an  inner  garment.  One  you 
wear  next  your  skin.    I  am  not  going  to  ask  you  to  wear  it 


58  INITIATED 

to  begin  with,  but  you  will  like  it  after  a  time.  You'll  fiud 
it  very  attractive." 

''This  dress  I  have  borrowed  from  one  of  the  ladies 
here  who  is  about  your  size.  I  have  given  an  order  to  our 
dressmaker  to  come  and  measure  you  for  one.  Now  gather 
up  your  things  and  I  will  show  you  your  room. 

The  girl,  only  too  eager  to  leave  her  prison,  began 
to  put  on  the  clothes. 

"0  you  needn't  mind.  You  can  dress  yourself  in  your 
room." 

She  followed  the  woman  down  a  flight  of  stairs.  They 
passed  Mugsy  in  the  passage.  He  nodded  and  smiled  ap- 
provingly to  the  girl,  who  was  in  her  chemise,  carrying  some 
of  her  things  on  her  arm. 

The  room  she  was  shown  to  looked  into  a  yard  in  the 
rear.  At  her  first  glance  she  noticed  the  bars  before  the 
windows.  The  room  was  well  furnished — a  brass  bed,  a 
dresser  with  wash  stand,  a  clothes  closet,  two  chairs,  a  rocker 
and  a  lounge. 

"I  hope  this  will  suit  3'ou,"  said  the  madam  approv- 
ingly. "There  is  a  bath  room  on  this  floor.  I  will  show  it 
to  you  while  I  am  here.  Come  this  way."  They  again 
passed  Mugsy,  who  seemed  to  be  loitering  in  the  passage 
without  any  seeming  object. 

''Now,  give  yourself  a  good  bath,"  said  the  woman. 
"I  know  you  need  it,  and  when  supper  is  ready  I  will  come 
for  you  and  introduce  you  to  the  young  ladies  in  the  house. 
I  am  sure  you  will  like  them.  You  will  fiud  you  are  in  a 
first-class  place.    We  don't  allow  'pikers'  around  here." 

The  girl,  only  too  eager,  availed  herself  of  the  advan- 
tages of  the  bath.  ]\Iugsy  was  still  in  the  passage  when  she 
came  from  the  bath  room.  She  dressed  herself.  The  only 
stockings  or  slippers  she  had  were  those  in  the  box.     She 


INITIATED  59 

put  them  on  and  sat  down  to  await  being  called  for  supper. 
A  few  minutes  past  six,  the  madam  entered  her  room, 

' '  You  look  charming,  my  dear,  A  little  pale ;  let  me 
help  you."  Going  to  a  box  in  which  there  was  rouge  and  a 
puff,  she  put  a  little  on  the  girl's  cheeks,  *'Now  that's 
better,"  she  remarked,  looking  at  the  girl  she  was  pre- 
paring for  a  life  of  shame.  ''Now,  remember,  all  the  girls 
here  are  known  under  different  names  than  their  own.  You 
are  Miss  Clementina  Montague.  That  is  a  little  more  aris- 
tocratic," she  said,  smiling,  "than  plain  Martha  Hill,"  The 
girl  listened  in  silence  to  all  her  mistress's  instructions, 

"Follow  me."  The  madam  led  her  down  a  stair  which 
was  nicely  carpeted.  The  statue  of  a  nude  woman  holding 
a  lamp  in  her  hand  stood  in  a  niche  at  the  bottom.  Reach- 
ing the  landing  she  saw  what  she  judged  was  the  front  door 
leading  to  the  street.  A  colored  man  sat  on  a  chair  beside 
it.  Down  another  flight  of  stairs  they  reached  the  dining 
room,  where  some  sixteen  other  women  were  already  seated, 
most  of  them  en  dishabille.  "Girls,"  said  the  madam,  "let 
me  introduce  you  to  Miss  Clementina  Montague."  The 
women  nodded  to  her.  She  stared  vacantly  at  the  array  of 
harlots,  some  of  them  younger  than  herself. 

"You'll  sit  next  to  me,  Clementina,"  said  the  woman, 
taking  her  seat  at  the  head  of  the  table.  Martha  dropped 
into  a  chair  beside  her.  Madam  touched  a  bell.  Supper  was 
brought  in.  The  fare  was  of  the  best,  but  Martha  felt  too 
sick  to  eat. 

Supper  over  at  the  bagnio,  the  women  and  girls  left  to 
prepare  their  toilet — to  paint  and  powder;  the  elder  ones 
to  obscure  the  ravages  that  their  calling  had  effected  in 
their  appearance.  Clementina  Montague  remained  in  the 
dining  room  to  await  her  owner's  pleasure,  her  toilet  being 
already  made. 


60  INITIATED 

"Now,  my  dear,"  said  the  madam,  addressing  her,  "I 
hope  you  will  be  agreeable  this  evening.  I  intend  to  intro- 
duce you  to  some  nice  people.  I  don't  want  you  to  hobnob 
with  every  Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry  that  comes  here.  (Such 
recommendation  was  unnecessary  to  poor  Martha,  who 
dreaded  conversation  with  anyone.)  Of  course,  I  expect 
you  to  be  sociable  with  all  my  patrons." 

The  tyro  remained  silent. 

"I  would  ask  you  to  take  a  little  brandy,"  continued 
the  madam,  "only  there  will  be  some  drink  in  the  parlors, 
and,  of  course,  you  will  have  to  accept  some  from  the  gentle- 
men." 

The  sound  of  a  piano  being  played  in  the  parlor  became 
audible. 

"Come,  now,  Clementina.  I  see  it  is  near  eight  o'clock, 
and  our  guests  will  soon  begin  to  arrive." 

The  old  She  Wolf  arose,  the  lamb  followed  her  to  the 
den.  After  ascending  the  stairs  and  going  along  the  passage 
leading  to  the  front  of  the  building,  Martha  Hill  observed 
the  colored  man  at  the  front  door. 

Madam  Blomgarten,  who  was  in  advance,  signalled  to 
her  protege  to  remain  at  the  parlor  door,  while  she  went 
and  spoke  to  the  doorkeeper.  After  whispering  a  few  words 
to  him,  he  scrutinized  Martha  Hill  very  carefully  as  if  to 
impress  her  personality  on  his  mind.  He  nodded  to  his 
mistress,  who,  retracing  her  steps,  conducted  her  protege 
into  the  parlor  where  about  a  dozen  women  and  girls  had 
already  assembled,  the  former  dressed  in  silks  and  satins, 
with  an  elaborate  display  of  jewelry.  Some  of  the  younger 
girls  wore  short  dresses  that  came  just  below  their  knees 
to  give  them  a  distinctively  youthful  appearance. 

Three  young  swells  who  were  talking  to  the  girls  smiled, 
and  nodded  to  the  madam  when  she  entered. 


INITIATED  61 

The  madam  sat  down  on  a  seat  fronting  the  entrance 
to  the  parlor,  beckoning  Martha  to  sit  beside  her.  The  piano 
kept  playing.  The  three  young  men  rose  from  their  seats, 
three  of  the  girls  they  had  been  talking  to  stood  up,  the 
piano  player  turned  around,  and,  seeing  the  position  of  the 
six  people  on  the  floor,  commenced  a  waltz. 

A  few  stragglers  came  in  between  the  hour  of  nine  and 
ten.  Most  of  them  singled  out  the  woman  or  girl  they  were 
acquainted  with  and  sat  talking  to  her  awhile.  Some  bought 
beer,  paying  a  dollar  a  bottle  for  it. 

The  madam  condescended  to  take  a  drink  with  some 
of  her  patrons. 

Martha  Hill  sat  wearied  at  the  unwholesome  sight. 
'Twas  repulsive  to  her.  She  saw  those  of  whom  she  was 
becoming  an  associate  retire  with  their  partners,  and  in  a 
brief  time  return,  the  man  going  his  way,  her  fellow  boarder 
returning  to  the  parlor  to  await  another  visitor  who  desired 
to  revel  in  her  charms. 

After  eleven  P.  M.  visitors  became  more  numerous. 
Madam  Blomgarten  left  her  seat  to  talk  to  some  of  them, 
who  seemed  not  desirous  of  entering  the  parlor.  When  such 
arrived  she  beckoned  to  or  called  the  attention  of  some  of 
her  staff  that  they  were  wanted.  The  woman  or  girl  tripped 
away  to  see  who  required  her. 

Some  there  came  who,  judging  by  the  way  they  sur- 
veyed the  surroundings,  were  strangers.  The  madam  dis- 
cerned them  at  a  glance.  Her  experienced  eye  told  her  they 
were  new  to  her  establishment.  To  these  she  was  most  at- 
tentive, going  to  meet  them  at  the  parlor  door.  If  they 
showed  any  hesitancy  to  enter,  she  chatted  and  smiled  with 
them  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  invited  them  in. 

If  they  were  of  substantial  appearance  she  sat  beside 


62  INITIATED 

them,  and,  beckoning  to  a  corresponding  number  of  her  un- 
employed to  come  over,  she  introduced  the  girls  to  them. 

The  names  of  visitors  not  being  mentioned,  if  any  of 
the  gentlemen  introduced  themselves  or  companions  by 
name,  the  madam  paid  little  attention  to  their  cognomens, 
as  she  judged  they  were  fictitious.  After  staying  until  the 
drink  was  ordered  and  brought,  she  would  take  a  sip,  and, 
after  hoping  the}^  would  enjoy  themselves,  take  her  leave  to 
again  join  Martha  Hill,  who  was  wearied  of  the  entertain- 
ment. 

It  was  near  twelve  o'clock,  when  the  sound  of  carriage 
wheels  could  be  heard  at  the  door.  The  madam  heard  the 
door  open,  when  a  gentleman  entered.  He  gave  a  glance 
into  the  parlor  and  walked  toward  the  stairs. 

Madam  Blomgarten  bounced  from  her  s«at,  and  fol- 
lowed him.     He  stood,  she  looked  into  his  face  and  smiled. 

"My  dear  Mr.  Dent,  how  are  you?"  she  said,  extending 
her  hand.  Dent  was  a  man  past  the  half  century.  He  might 
have  been  sixty.  He  was  well  groomed,  and  dressed  as  be- 
came a  man  of  means. 

"Fairly  well.  How  are  you?  I  see  you  have  a  crowd 
here  tonight." 

"Yes,  but  I  have  something  choice  for  you.  A  lovely 
girl,  fresh  from  the  country.  She's  as  innocent  and  as 
tender  as  a  chicken.  I  hardly  think  I  should  introduce  her 
to  you.     Some  of  my  girls  tell  me  you  are  very  exacting." 

He  laughed  heartily. 

"Well,  Sadie,"  addressing  her  by  her  first  name,  "they 
all  seem  very  well  satisfied,  when  I  leave  them." 

"Yes,  you  old  sport,  they  all  say  you're  game." 

"Come,  let  us  see  her.  You  know  I  don't  like  to  be  seen 
standing  here." 

"Well  now  you'll  promise  me  you  won't  be  too  rough 


The  Introduction 


LXITIATED  63 

with  her,  and  that  you'll  treat  her  liberally.  I  wouldn't 
have  her  dissatisfied  for  a  good  deal,  and  remember  she's  a 
little  shy." 

"Well,  she  won't  be  long  so,  if  she  stays  in  your  estab- 
lishment," he  said,  laughing.  "Bring  her  along,  and  let  me 
see  her." 

Madam  Blomgarten  went  back  to  where  Martha  was 
sitting.  The  girl  had  a  presentiment  her  coming  foreboded 
evil. 

"Now,  Clementina,"  she  whispered,  "I  am  going  to 
introduce  you  to  a  very  dear  friend  of  mine.  He  is  a  thor- 
ough gentleman  and  is  immensely  rich.  I  hope  you  will 
make  a  hit  with  him." 

Martha's  face  crimsoned  in  spite  of  her  week's  experi- 
ence. 

"Come  now,  girl,  be  sociable.  This  is  a  favor  I  am 
granting  you." 

Martha  could  not  see  the  favor,  but  arose  like  an  auto- 
maton, and  followed  her  owner,  the  woman  who  had  bought 
and  paid  for  her. 

When  Martha  reached  the  passage,  she  looked  toward 
the  front  door.    The  big  black  stood  like  a  sentry  at  his  post. 

Reaching  the  gentleman,  the  madam  smilingly  intro- 
duced Miss  Clementina  Montague  to  him.  He  bowed  to  her, 
and  in  a  business  manner  ordered  the  madam  to  send  up  a 
bottle  of  champagne  to  Miss  Montague's  room. 

"Now  treat  her  right,"  said  the  madam,  smiling  up 
into  Dent's  face,  "and  I  hope  to  hear  good  reports  of  you 
in  the  morning,  Clementina, ' '  looking  at  the  girl,  whose  scar- 
let face  portrayed  her  shame  but  gave  bloom  to  her  cheeks 
to  the  great  satisfaction  of  one  of  Chicago's  most  honored 
citizens  and  influential  business  men. 


64  INITIATED 

The  madam,  seeing  that  Martha  was  in  doubt  as  to 
what  to  do,  said,  "Come  now,  Clementina,  show  the  gentle- 
man to  your  room." 

Martha  began  to  ascend  the  stairs,  followed  by  the  man. 
As  they  reached  the  landing  they  met  a  figure  coming  toward 
them.  She  was  a  big  blonde,  with  a  magnificent  head  of 
hair;  her  only  raiment  was  a  gauze  undergarment,  such  as 
the  madam  had  shown  and  commended  to  Martha.  The 
woman 's  outline  was  as  plain  to  be  seen  as  that  of  a  marble 
statue  in  the  Art  Gallery. 

Mr.  Dent  smiled  as  the  figure  stood  before  him  and  ex- 
tended her  hand.  Martha  sought  refuge  in  her  room;  Mr. 
Dent,  following  her,  closed  the  door  behind  him. 


ANXIETY  65 


CHAPTER  IX. 
ANXIETY. 

About  the  same  time  of  day  on  the  same  evening  de- 
scribed in  the  preceding  chapter,  in  the  town  of  B ,  Mich- 
igan, a  family  group  consisting  of  a  middle-aged  man  and 
woman, — his  wife, — a  robust,  powerful  young  fellow  about 
the  age  of  twenty-one,  and  three  younger  persons  were  sit- 
ting at  supper.  It  was  but  a  frugal  meal.  The  fare  was 
simple :  roast  beef  and  vegetables,  coifee,  bread  and  butter. 
They  all  ate  heartily.  The  dining  room  overlooked  a  gar- 
den, whence  the  smell  of  sweet-scented  flowers  permeated 
the  atmosphere.  The  bees  could  be  heard  humming,  the 
butterflies  could  be  observed  perching  on  the  hollyhocks  or 
flitting  in  search  of  dainty  morsels  of  which  the  well-kept 
garden  had  an  abundance.  The  windows,  carefully  screened, 
excluded  the  insects.  Everything  in  and  around  the  place 
was  clean  and  wholesome,  showing  the  care  with  which 
Mrs.  Hill  kept  her  home.  Supper  was  nearly  over  when 
her  husband,  looking  at  his  wife,  said: 

"Isn't  it  a  wonder  that  we  haven't  got  a  letter  from 
Martha?     She's  gone  now  over  a  week,  and  not  a  line." 

"Yes,"  replied  his  wife.  "I  am  sure  she  is  very  much 
to  blame.  She  might  at  least  have  dropped  a  line  to  have 
let  us  know  if  she  had  secured  a  situation  and  where  she 
was  staying." 

"I  was  never  in  favor  of  letting  her  go,"  remarked  the 
young  man.  "Chicago's  a  big  city  and  sometimes  we  hear 
very  peculiar  stories  about  the  goings-on  there." 


66  ANXIETY 

"Now,  Robert,  you  know  Martha  wanted  to  go.  She 
was  anxious  to  get  a  situation  so  that  she  might  help  us, 
since  her  father  has  been  sick  and  you  the  only  one  work- 
ing. She  was  determined  to  go,  and  she  told  us  if  she 
couldn  't  get  a  place  she  was  going  to  come  right  back.  Still 
she  should  have  written." 

''Perhaps,"  said  the  elder  man,  "she  is  waiting  to  get 
a  place  before  she  writes.  We'll  hear  from  her  in  a  day  or 
two,  so  there  is  no  use  in  getting  uneasy." 

"Martha's  a  good  girl  and  will  not  associate  with  bad 
company,  and  I  am  sure  when  she  does  get  a  place  they 
will  like  her." 

"That  may  be  all  right,  mother,"  remarked  the  young 
man,  rising  from  the  table,  "but  I'd  rather  see  her  at  home. 
It's  a  little  lonesome  without  her." 

"Well,  have  patience,  boy,"  said  the  father,  "it'll  turn 
out  all  right." 

The  young  man,  however,  was  far  from  satisfied — not 
that  he  thought  any  ill  would  happen  to  his  sister,  but  he 
felt  a  brother's  love  for  her.  She  was  all  to  him,  as  up  to 
that  time  he  had  never  had  any  special  regard  for  any  fel- 
low's sister.  His  own  was  enough  for  him.  He  idolized  her 
as  did  all  the  family.  Robert's  dissatisfaction  filled  his 
parents  with  gloom.  In  spite  of  their  seeming  faith  in  their 
daughter's  ability  and  purity  to  keep  her  clear  of  the  shoals 
that  they  knew  arose  in  the  way  of  girls  Avith  less  sense  and 
judgment  than  their  daughter,  in  whom  they  had  such  im- 
plicit faith. 

Two  weeks  had  passed,  and  still  no  tidings  of  ]\Iartha 
Hill.  A  settled  gloom  had  come  over  the  Hill  family,  which 
seemed  to  spread  to  the  whole  town  of  H .  The  neigh- 
bors were  frequent  in  their  inquiries,  "Had  they  heard  from 
Martha?" 


ANXIETY  67 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hill  could  not  understand  it.  They  did 
not  know  what  to  think.  Robert  Hill  aggravated  the  case 
by  his  dismal  forebodings. 

"I  know  there  is  something  wrong,"  he  would  say,  *'or 
Martha  would  have  written  before  this."  Seeing  the  effect 
his  alarm  had  upon  his  father  and  mother,  he  tried  not  to 
make  them  more  miserable  than  they  were,  but  his  impetu- 
ous nature  could  not  be  restrained. 

As  assistant  engineer  at  the works  he  was  away 

all  day,  usually  taking  his  lunch  with  him.  After  she  had 
been  gone  ten  days  he  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of 
running  home  during  the  noon  hour  to  find  if  there  were 
any  tidings.  None  having  come,  he  returned  to  his  work 
with  a  heavy  heart. 

At  quitting  time  he  would  not  stop  to  gossip  as  in  the 
past  with  his  fellow  employees.    Many  an  inquiry  was  made. 

"Well,  Bob,  any  news  from  your  sister  yet?" 

"There  wasn't  any  at  noon,"  he  would  say,  and  hurry 
home  in  hopes  of  hearing  glad  tidings.  None  having  come, 
he  threw  himself  into  a  chair.  His  mother's  red  eyes  pre- 
vented him  from  talking  about  the  only  subject  he  had  on 
his  mind.  The  supper  was  eaten  in  silence,  even  the  yo  anger 
children  were  mute  as  they  shared  in  the  general  anxiety. 

Robert  Hill  began  to  eat  sparingly.  Before  the  time 
for  supper  was  over  he  would  rise  from  the  table  and  go  out. 

She  had  been  gone  fifteen  days  when  he  went  over  to 
his  chum,  Matthew  Howard.  Howard's  sisters,  who  had 
been  friends  of  Martha  from  childhood,  ran  to  meet  him. 

"Well,  Robert,  any  news?" 

"No,"  shaking  his  head.  His  heart  was  too  full  for 
further  utterance. 

Matthew  Howard  was  visibly  affected,  and  was  just  as 
anxious  as  was  her  brother.     Martha  Hill's  absence  left  a 


68  ANXIETY 

void  in  his  existence.  "When  she  came  to  visit  his  sisters, 
he  looked  upon  her  as  one  of  them.  Now  that  she  was  ab- 
sent, she  seemed  more.  He  reproached  himself  for  letting 
her  go.  "I  should  have  prevented  her,"  he  would  say  to 
himself.  "I  know  I  could  if  I  had  tried."  Matt  knew  the 
straitened  circumstances  of  the  Hills  since  the  father  had 
been  laid  up  so  long,  but,  being  a  busy  man  and  his  sister 
Rachel  being  in  constant  communication  with  them,  he 
neglected  or  left  to  his  sister  any  assistance  they  might 
require.  Rachel  knew  full  well  that  anything  she  did  for 
them  would  meet  his  approval. 

The  Hills  were  sensitive,  however;  both  Robert  and 
Martha  were  proud,  and  any  reference  by  Rachel  in  the  way 
of  extended  credit,  or  even  assistance,  was  generally  met 
with  the  rejoinder: 

"We  w^ill  get  on  all  right." 

It  was  the  spirit  of  independence  in  Martha  Hill  which 
prompted  her  to  leave  her  home.  Matt  Howard  was  the 
last  man  in  the  world  she  would  appeal  to  for  assistance. 
They  had  played  together  as  children  and  had  grown  up 
to  womanhood  and  manhood  together. 

That  she  liked  him  was  a  fact  her  heart's  promptings 
told  her,  but  he  was  in  good  circumstances.  Slie  was  lowly, 
he  never  thought  of  such  a  distinction.     She  did. 

One  night  in  particular,  to  which  we  now  have  refer- 
ence, Robert  Hill  and  ]\Iatthew  Howard  sat  in  the  letter's 
office,  conferring  as  to  what  should  be  done. 

"I  tell  you  what  I  want  you  to  do,  Bob;  lay  off  for  a 
week  and  go  to  Chicago,  and  try  and  find  her.  She  may 
have  got  injured,  run  over  perhaps — there's  no  telling. 
When  you  find  her  bring  her  back  with  you.  Never  mind 
what  position  she  has.     Do  that  for  all  our  sakes."     Matt 


ANXIETY  69 

Howard  might  have  been  more  specific  and  said,  "Do  it  for 
my  sake.     I  am  unhappy  while  she's  away." 

"It's  pretty  hard  for  me  to  get  away,  but  that  won't 
stop  me.  Chicago,  however,  is  an  immense  city,  I  hardly 
know  how  to  go  about  it.  You  know  I  was  never  away 
from  home  before." 

"What  you  want  to  do  when  you  get  to  Chicago  is 
first  to  go  to  police  headquarters,  and  tell  them  the  facts 
in  the  case.  The  police  will  call  up  the  hospitals  for  you. 
You  needn't  be  shy  for  money,  Bob,  you  know  that." 

"I  am  awfully  thankful  to  you,  Matt,  and  if  we  don't 
hear  from  her  by  Monday  I'll  go." 

No  information  having  come  by  the  time  prescribed, 
Robert  Hill  left  at  the  same  hour  as  had  Martha  three  weeks 
before  and — strange  coincidence — stood  on  the  same  corner 
as  had  his  sister  in  this  Modern  Gomorrah,  three  weeks 
previous  just  as  she  had  done,  looking  which  way  he  would 
turn.  A  person  coming  along,  he  inquired  the  way  to  the 
police  department.  On  being  informed,  he  went  and  found  it. 

In  consultation  with  the  officer  in  command  he  told  his 
story, 

"So  your  sister  was  never  away  from  home  before?" 

"No,  sir." 

"Had  she  any  acquaintances  in  this  city  you  know  of?" 

"No,  sir.    She  was  a  total  stranger." 

"Had  she  any  sweetheart  in  B or  any  other  place 

you  know  of?  ' 

"No,  sir.  I  never  knew  her  to  keep  company  with  any- 
one." 

"Haven't  missed  any  man  from  your  town?" 

"No,  sir.  You  see  ours  is  a  small  place  and  she  was 
known  to  everybody.  All  our  neighbors  are  anxious  about 
her." 


70  ANXIETY 

"Well,  I'll  take  your  description  of  her,  and  the  way 
she  was  dressed,  and  the  kind  of  baggage  she  had,  if  any. 
Had  she  a  trunk  with  her?" 

"No,  sir.  She  had  a  few  things  like  underwear,  and 
probably  an  extra  dress  or  shirt-waist  in  a  brown  parcel. 
She  did  not  bring  much  with  her,  as  she  expected  to  com- 
municate with  us  in  a  few  days  and  notify  us  of  what  other 
clothing  she  would  want." 

The  officer  took  down  the  description  of  Martha,  the 
clothing  she  wore,  and  the  articles  in  the  bundle  as  accu- 
rately as  Robert  Hill  could  give  it  to  him,  and  then  said, 
"Well,  we'll  see  what  we  can  do  for  you.  Probably  she's 
careless  in  writing,  forgetful,  like  many  other  girls,  of  the 
anxiety  she's  causing  her  relatives." 

"A  friend  in  our  town  suggested  that  she  might  have 
happened  with  an  accident,  and  be  laid  up  somewhere." 

"Perhaps  so.  I'll  have  inquiries  made  at  the  hospitals. 
Call  in  tomorrow  at  this  time  and  I'll  let  you  know  what 
we've  found  out." 

Eobert  Hill  spent  the  balance  of  the  day  late  into  the 
night  looking  into  the  faces  of  the  girls  in  the  downtown 
district,  and  going  through  the  department  stores  in  hopes 
of  finding  her,  but  in  vain.  His  inquiry  at  the  police  station 
the  next  morning  was  fruitless.  Inquiries  had  been  made 
at  all  hospitals,  but  no  person  answering  either  to  the  name 
or  description  had  been  brought  in,  for  two  weeks.  He  had 
gone  from  place  to  place,  calling  at  police  headquarters 
every  day  with  the  same  result.  He  had  written  home,  giv- 
ing the  address  at  which  he  was  staying.  He  had  also  writ- 
ten to  Matt  Howard  for  him  to  telegraph  if  they  had  any 
news. 

Howard  wrote  him  at  the  end  of  the  week,  telling  him 


ANXIETY  71 

they  had  no  news  and  inclosing  twenty  dollars  with  instruc- 
tions for  him  to  remain  in  Chicago  for  another  week. 

On  the  Monday  following  his  arrival,  he  went  to  the 
police  department  as  he  had  done  every  day.  The  chief,  on 
seeing  him,  said,  "Well,  young  man,  we  have  found  out 
something  about  your  sister,  but  we  have  not  found  her. 
Bring  in  that  bundle  you  have, ' '  he  said  to  a  subordinate. 

The  bundle  was  brought  in.  It  had  been  opened. 
Robert  Hill  recognized  it  at  a  glance. 

"Those  are  my  sister's  things," 

"I  guess  so,"  replied  the  officer,  "We  found  those  at 
a  hotel  on  Clark  St.  where  a  girl  answering  the  description 
of  your  sister  secured  a  room  for  the  night,  paid  for  it,  and 
left  immediately  after  and  never  returned.  My  man  asked 
if  she  was  alone,  and  the  clerk  in  the  hotel  said  she  was," 

Robert  Hill  grew  ghastly  pale  on  hearing  this  news. 

The  mystery  had  deepened, 

"I  have  my  men  inquiring  at  the  resorts  now  to  see 
if  they  can  locate  her," 

"What  do  you  mean?"  inquired  Robert  eagerly, 

"Why,  the  sporting  houses,  the  brothels." 

"My  sister  would  never  enter  a  place  of  that  kind," 
said  Hill,  emphatically. 

"I  hope  not,"  replied  the  officer.  "But,  young  man, 
you  have  a  good  deal  to  learn  about  women  and  the  ways 
of  a  big  city  like  Chicago.  How  long  are  you  going  to  stay 
here?" 

"I  would  like  to  stay  until  I  find  her." 

The  police  did  make  inquiry  at  some  of  the  resorts. 

They  were  careful,  however,  not  to  pry  too  closely  into 
the  business  affairs  of  people  who,  they  knew,  had  the  pro- 
tection of  men  high  in  official  positions.  One  called  at 
Madam  Blomgarten's.     He  was  extremely  ci\al,  and  well 


72  ANXIETY 

known  to  the  madam,  who  saluted  him  sociably  by  extend- 
ing her  hand  and  saying: 

"Well,  Mike,  what's  up  now?" 

*'I  am  looking  for  a  girl  that's  missing." 

"What  kind  of  a  girl  is  she?" 

"She's  between  eighteen  and  nineteen,  had  dark  brown 
hair,  blue  eyes,  about  five  feet  four  inches  in  height  and  slim 
built.  Her  name  is  ^Martha  Hill,  and  recently  arrived  from 
Michigan." 

"Never  heard  of  her.  The  only  woman  that  has  come 
here  within  the  past  two  months  is  one  from  St,  Louis.  She 
has  dark  hair,  but  is  tall  and  stout.  She  tells  me  she  ran 
away  from  her  husband  because  he  treated  her  badly." 

' '  Oh,  that 's  not  her, ' '  replied  the  copper,  who  owed  his 
position  to  the  bosses  in  the  district  and  was  fully  aware 
of  the  penalty  over-officiousness  would  cost  him.  As  he  was 
about  to  go  tlie  madam  slipped  him  a  two-dollar  bill  with 
the  recommendation : 

"Buy  yourself  a  drink." 

"Thank,  you,  ma'am." 

Previous  to  Robert  Hill  leaving  Chicago  he  paid  a  final 
visit  to  the  police  department,  where  he  was  informed  that, 
after  a  most  diligent  search,  no  trace  of  his  sister  could  be 
found. 

"Perhaps  she  didn't  stay  in  Chicago,"  said  the  officer 
on  duty.  "She  may  have  got  a  situation  that  has  taken  her 
out  of  the  city,  and  which  has  caused  a  delay  in  her  com- 
municating with  you." 

"T  don't  know  what  has  become  of  her.  I  am  afraid 
she  is  lost  to  us  forever.  If  my  sister  was  living  she  would 
have  never  left  her  parents  in  such  suspense." 

"Well,  my  man,  we  have  done  all  we  could  for  you." 


ANXIETY  73 

Hill  shook   hands  with  the   police  officers   and  deter- 
mined to  return  to  B .     He  had  a  heavy  heart.     His 

sister  had  disappeared  as  if  the  ground  had  opened  and 
swallowed  her. 


74  LOST  BEYOND  A  DOUBT 


CHAPTER  X. 
LOST  BEYOND  A  DOUBT. 

On  arriving  at  his  home  town,  Robert  Hill  had  to  con- 
front the  worst  experience  of  his  life :  how  could  he  tell  his 
parents  the  futility  and  hopelessness  of  his  search  for  their 
daughter,  his  sister?  He  hesitated  for  some  time  as  to  what 
was  best  to  do.  As  good  fortune  would  have  it,  there  were 
none  at  the  depot,  only  the  porter,  whom  he  passed  hastily. 
Not  being  in  the  mood  to  speak  to  outsiders,  no  matter  if 
they  were  friendly  with  him,  as  were  all  the  people  in  his 
town,  all  of  whom  knew  of  the  anxiety  of  him  and  the  family 
and  shared  in  their  grief,  as  it  was  common  talk,  ''We 
wonder  what  has  become  of  Martha,"  he  took  a  walk  up  a 
secluded  road  where  he  was  not  likely  to  meet  anyone,  that 
he  might  collect  his  thoughts  as  to  how  best  to  break  the 
sad  news  to  the  anxious  ones  at  home.  He  ultimately  re- 
solved to  first  consult  his  friend  Howard  and  seek  his  ad- 
vice,— Matt  knowing  in  advance  that,  up  to  a  few  days  be- 
fore, his  mission  had  been  a  failure. 

On  reaching  Howard's  store,  Rachel,  who  saw  him  en- 
tering, left  the  cashier's  desk  in  haste  and  ran  forward  to 
meet  him. 

"Well,  Robert,  did  you  find  her?"  There  was  a  tremor 
in  her  voice,  as  she  saw  the  downcast  expression  on  Hill's 
face,  who  only  shook  his  head.  His  heart  was  too  full  of 
grief  to  answer  her  inquiry  in  words. 

Rachel's  tender  heart  prompting  tears,  her  sobs  aroused 


LOST  BEYOND  A  DOUBT  75 

Matt,  who,  attending  to  customers  at  the  far  end  of  the 
store,  came  running  forward,  pale  with  apprehension. 

"Well,  Bob,  I  see  you've  returned.    What  news?" 

**None!"  replied  Hill,  his  voice  being  choked  against 
further  utterance. 

The  three  stood  silent,  while  all  the  customers  in  the 
busy  store  came  forward  to  hear  the  news  in  which  they 
were  all  deeply  interested.  They  all,  however,  surmised  the 
worst  by  the  faces  of  Hill,  Howard  and  his  sister.  They, 
asked  no  questions,  but  left  the  sorrowing  trio  alone. 

"I  would  like  to  talk  to  you  privately,"  said  Hill  to 
Matthew. 

"Then  come  up  to  my  room." 

Kachel  went  back  to  her  desk,  wiping  her  eyes  as  the 
tears  coursed  down  her  cheeks. 

On  reaching  the  room,  Howard  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"You  failed  in  finding  her,  Bob?" 

"Yes,  not  a  trace  of  her,  even  after  we  found  her  par- 
cel and  the  hotel  in  which  she  secured  a  room  on  the  day 
of  her  arrival,  as  I  advised  you  in  my  letter." 

"Had  the  police  no  theory?  What  did  they  suggest  on 
your  final  visit?" 

They  suggested  that  she  may  have  secured  a  place  that 
took  her  temporarily  out  of  the  city,  and  that  she  was  care- 
less in  writing,  or  maybe  her  letter  advising  her  people  had 
miscarried.  The  other  suggestion,  preposterous  to  consider, 
was  that  she  had  become  an  inmate  of  a  sporting  house,  as 
he  called  them." 

"What  is  that?"  inquired  Howard. 

"Why,  a  brothel,  a  house  of  ill-fame." 

"Bah!"  shouted  Matt.  "The  very  suggestion  was  an 
insult  and  I  would  have  told  him  so  if  I  had  been  with  you." 

"Well,  the  policemen  treated  me  very  considerately. 


76  LOST  BEYOND  A  DOUBT 

The  chief  gave  instructions  to  make  inquiry  at  the  hospitals 
and  even  search  the  records  at  the  coroner's  office  and  of  his 
own  volition  had  his  police  investigate  the  sporting  houses, 
as  he  called  them,  but  could  not  find  any  trace  of  her  after 
she  had  left  the  hotel  on  the  day  of  her  arrival.  That  they 
made  a  careful  search,  we  may  be  assured,  as  they  found 
her  bundle  with  her  clothes  in  it." 

"I  don't  know  what  to  think,"  ventured  Matt,  ''except 
that  she  got  a  place  right  away,  which  took  her  away  from 
Chicago  for  a  time,  and  she  thoughtlessly  neglected  inform- 
ing us.  Possibly  when  she  arrived  that  afternoon  she  im- 
mediately went  out  to  seek  a  position  and  obtained  one 
which,  if  she  had  to  leave  the  city  immediately,  allowed  her 
little  time  to  write.  She's  to  blame,  anyhow,  and  when  I 
see  her  I'l  tell  her  so," 

"But  what  am  I  to  say  to  mother  and  father?  They 
are  already  in  a  state  of  the  greatest  anxiety  over  her  and 
I  am  sure  when  I  tell  them  I  couldn't  find  her  it  will  break 
their  hearts." 

''I'll  go  over  with  you,"  said  Matt,  "and  we'll  cheer 
them  up  the  best  we  can,  the  going  out  of  Chicago  for  a 
time  is  the  most  feasible  and  we'll  impress  them  with  it 
and  wait  for  events," 

On  arriving  at  the  Hill  homestead,  as  soon  as  the 
anxious  mother  saw  them  enter,  she  looked  beyond  them  in 
hopes  of  seeing  a  third  party,  but  seeing  no  one  she  fell 
back  in  her  chair.  The  father  looked  up  at  the  two  men  to 
await  information,  while  the  younger  members  grouped 
around  their  brother,  looking  into  his  face  for  tidings  of 
their  sister. 

Howard  was  the  first  to  speak,  "I  don't  want  you 
people  to  be  too  despondent.  Robert  tells  me  that  the  Chi- 
cago police  have  a  very  reasonable  theory  for  her  absence, 


LOST  BEYOND  A  DOUBT  77 

and  that  is,  that  on  her  arrival  in  Chicago  early  in  the  after- 
noon of  the  day  she  left,  she  had  ample  time  to  go  in  search 
of  a  place,  and  more  than  probably  was  offered  one  that  took 
her  temporarily  out  of  the  city.  I  have  been  carefully 
watching  the  advertisements  in  the  Chicago  papers  ever 
since  she  left,  and,  in  reading  the  columns  where  female 
help  is  required,  I  have  frequently  come  across  some  'ad' 
inquiring  for  young  women  to  act  as  ladies'  maids,  others 
where  nurses  are  wanted,  and  quite  a  number  offering  posi- 
tions as  companions  to  well-to-do  women,  and  frequently 
one  explaining  that  the  people  advertising  are  about  to 
leave  the  city,  so  the  person  applying  must  be  prepared  to 
travel.  If,  then,  Martha  had  such  an  offer,  probably  she 
would  accept  it,  and  in  her  desire  to  secure  it  might  thought- 
lessly have  neglected  writing  to  us,  hoping  to  give  us  a  sur- 
prise, when  she  would  let  us  know  of  her  good  fortune." 

"But  she  should  have  informed  us,"  said  her  mother. 
"She  must  know  how  anxious  we  would  be  about  her,  and 
I  don't  care  what  excuses  you  make  for  her,  Matt,  she  is 
very  much  to  blame." 

"Well,  mother,  said  Bob,  relieved  somewhat  by  How- 
ard's explanation,  "let  us  not  blame  her  too  much  till  we 
hear  from  her.  The  policemen  suggested  she  may  have  writ- 
ten, but  her  letter  miscarried.  You  know  Martha  never  had 
much  correspondence  and  she,  herself,  may  have  misdirected 
her  letter." 

Just  at  this  time  a  number  of  neighbors,  who  had  heard 
of  Bob 's  return,  gathered  in  to  hear  the  news.  Howard  told 
them  of  the  probability  of  Martha  getting  a  position  that 
took  her  out  of  the  city,  perhaps  out  of  the  country  for  a 
time,  so  there  was  nothing  left  for  us  all  but  to  wait,  add- 
ing, as  a  consolation  to  the  old  people,  that  he  felt  confident 
she  would  turn  up  in  good  time  all  right.     His  expressed 


78  LOST  BEYOND  A  DOUBT 

confidence  was  far  from  what  he  felt,  and  belied  his  looks. 

Another  week  had  passed,  and  no  tidings  from  Martha. 
'Twas  useless  to  search  for  her,  if  the  Chicago  police  could 
not  find  her.  What  to  do  they  were  at  a  loss  to  know. 
Then  axiety  gave  way  to  despondency,  which  settled  on  the 
Hill  homestead,  ere  another  week  had  passed. 

Matt  Howard  got  into  communication  with  the  chief  of 
police,  who  replied  promptly  that  they  had  no  tidings  what- 
soever of  the  girl,  but  the  entire  force  had  her  description 
among  many  others  who  seem,  as  it  were,  to  have  been  swal- 
lowed up  soon  after  entering  the  city.  "She,  however,  I  am 
informed,  was  a  most  exemplary  girl,  and  as  such  was  not 
likely  to  go  astray,  as  many  of  the  flighty  things  who  are 
dazzled  by  the  lights  in  a  large  city  and  are  but  a  short 
time  here,  before  they  get  their  wings  singed.  As  to  your 
proposition  to  meet  any  expense  that  may  be  incurred  in 
the  search  for  her,  that  is  entirely  unnecessary,  as  I  have 
notified  the  department  under  my  jurisdiction  to  keep  a 
good  lookout  for  any  girl  of  the  name  or  answering  her 
description.  And  if  they  should  find  anyone  under  any  cir- 
cumstances they  may  have  grounds  in  believing  she  is  the 
party  wanted,  to  bring  her  into  headquarters.  I  still  reiter- 
ate my  first  impression  after  we  had  made  the  first  search 
for  her  and  failed  in  finding  her,  that  she  had  left  the  city 
shortly  after  her  arrival.  As  to  your  query,  why  should 
she  leave  Chicago  and  not  take  her  bundle  with  her,  I  would 
say  the  articles  she  left  behind  were  of  no  great  value,  and 
probably  if  she  had  reeivced  an  urgent  demand  for  her 
services  which  would  require  an  absence  of  temporary  char- 
acter from  the  city,  she  might  feel  that  her  clothing  was  in 
a  safe  depository  until  her  return ;  or  another  proposition 
being,  as  you  describe  her,  a  very  prepossessing  girl,  and 
getting  a  situation  as  either  ladies'  maid  or  companion,  she 


LOST  BEYOND  A  DOUBT  79 

might  deem  the  clothing  left  behind  unsuitable,  and  a  gener- 
ous employer  would  readily  make  up  the  deficiency.  We, 
however,  cannot  find  what  is  not  here,  but  like  her  friends 

in  B ,  will  have  to  wait  and  hope  for  the  best." 

Weeks  went  by,  and  no  tidings  of  the  girl.  Robert,  her 
brother,  made  occasional  trips  to  Chicago,  on  one  occasion 
accompanied  by  Matt  Howard,  but,  after  the  most  diligent 
search  and  inquiry,  returned  more  hopelessly  disheartened 
than  ever,  until  a  settled  conclusion  was  reached  by  both 
friends  and  neighbors,  that  Martha  Hill  was  not  in  the  land 
of  the  living.  Why  or  how  she  had  met  her  fate,  none  could 
surmise,  but  that  she  had  lost  her  life  and  was  lying  either 
at  the  bottom  of  Lake  Michigan,  the  river,  or  in  some  un- 
known grave,  was  the  final  conclusion.  Only  her  parents 
prayed  for  her,  and  still  clung  to  hope. 


80  RESIGNED 

CHAPTER  XI. 
RESIGNED. 

Martha  Hill  had  been  but  two  months  under  the  control 
of  Sadie  Blomgarten,  when  that  lady  informed  her  she  was 
in  debt  to  the  extent  of  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  dol- 
lars— after  all  allowances  had  been  made  for  the  money 
debited  to  her  credit.  As  an  asset  against  this  she  had  an 
amount  of  clothing  and  a  quantity  of  cheap  showy  jewelry, 
all  of  which  the  madam  had  purchased  for  her  at  the  stores 
prescribed  by  the  bosses  who  guaranteed  protection  to  her 
in  her  nefarious  business. 

The  dresses  and  underwear  had  to  be  purchased  at  a 
certain  store,  the  shoes  and  slippers  at  another,  the  millinery 
at  another,  the  jewelry  at  another.  Free  trade  was  not  per- 
mitted, the  prices  the  inmates  of  such  houses  have  to  pay 
is  out  of  all  proportion  to  their  value,  but  those  who  are 
slaves  must  obey.  Even  the  madam  who  owns  and  controls 
the  establishment  under  a  permit  (not  from  the  man  higher 
up,  but  the  man  highest  up)  has  to  pay  an  enormous  rental 
to  one  of  Chicago's  influential  —  yea!  perhaps  most  re- 
spected of  citizens  in  our  shoddy,  commercial  society. 

Martha  Hill  raised  no  objection  when  informed  of  her 
indebtedness.  If  the  dame  had  told  her  it  was  five  hundred 
it  Avould  have  been  the  same.  The  girl  was  degraded — sul)- 
dued,  she  never  ceased  thinking  of  home  and  of  the  dear 
ones  she  had  left  behind.  But  how  could  she  ever  meet  them 
again?  She  banished  the  thought.  She  was  an  unwilling 
victim  to  conditions  fostered  by  many,  condoiKMl  by  others, 


RESIGNED  81 

understood  by  few.  She  had  little  desire  to  go  out  now. 
If  she  had,  where  would  she  go,  to  whom  could  she  tell  her 
story?    Who  would  believe  her? 

Madam  Blomgarten  would  testify  that  she  came  to  her 
establishment  of  her  own  free  will,  and  would  be  corro- 
borated in  her  testimony  by  the  colored  man  at  the  door, 
who  saw  her  brought  in  by  the  negress  who  attended  her, 
and  by  Mugsy.  The  preponderance  of  evidence  would  be 
against  her,  besides  she  had  learned  from  some  of  the  other 
inmates  that  Sadie  Blomgarten  was  thought  much  of  in 
influential,  political,  and  even  judicial  circles,  which  she  be- 
lieved was  probably  true,  or  else  why  would  she  be  allowed 
to  run  such  an  institution  which  had  for  its  purpose  the 
barter  of  the  bodies  and  souls  of  the  daughters  of  men? 

So  Martha  Hill,  as  thousands  before  her,  submitted  to 
her  fate.  She  was  dead  to  the  old  world  in  which  she  had 
lived,  and,  in  spite  of  an  aching  heart,  had  to  conform  to 
the  new. 

She  was  popular  in  the  resort,  she  never  pushed  herself 
on  anyone  of  the  many  visitors  as  did  the  veterans  who, 
devoid  of  shame,  ogled  every  man  who  came  into  the  place 
in  their  desire  for  patronage. 

For  this  reason  none  were  jealous  of  her. 

Sadie  Blomgarten  took  pains  to  introduce  her  to  her 
wealthy  patrons  as  a  girl  just  from  the  country. 

"Such  a  nice  girl  and  a  charming  entertainer.  I  know 
you  would  like  to  make  her  acquaintance."  So  poor  Martha 
would  be  introduced  to  the  aristocratic  roues  that  fre- 
quented Sadie  Blomgarten 's  brothel. 

One  evening  while  at  supper  the  madam  made  an  an- 
nouncement that  a  number  of  the  girls  would  have  to  attend 
the  First  Ward  Democratic  Ball,  and  she  would  expect  those 
she  would  select  to  go  to  put  on  some  style  so  as  to  keep  up 


82  RESIGNED 

the  respectability  of  the  establishment.  Many  of  the  girls 
looked  significantly  at  one  another,  they  knew  what  it 
meant :  more  clothes ;  more  debt. 

"I  have  been  compelled  to  buy  a  hundred  and  sixty 
dollars  worth  of  tickets.  That  is  ten  dollars  apiece  for  each 
of  you  girls  and  to  rent  a  box.  So  you'll  all  have  to  do  your 
best  to  help  me  get  it  back.  You  know,  girls,  if  I  do  well, 
you  do  well." 

It  was  the  old  gag  between  the  employer  and  the  em- 
ployee; the  mutual  interests  between  capital  and  labor. 
Probably  the  madam  had  read  something  about  the  com- 
mon interests  in  the  Chicago  press. 

The  annual  round-up  of  everything  that  was  vile  had 
to  be  a  masquerade.  The  madam  set  about  making  sugges- 
tions as  to  suitable  costumes.  The  younger  members  had  to 
dress  as  pages  and  school  girls,  the  latter  having  short  skirts 
and  slates  on  which  they  might  put  down  the  names  and 
addresses  of  gentlemen  whose  acquaintance  they  made,  and 
the  dates  if  they  were  successful  in  making  any. 

Three  of  the  larger  women,  she  decided,  should  wear 
dominoes  with  a  four-cornered  hat,  such  as  students  wear 
at  college.  Their  dominoes  were  to  be  black  with  large 
figures  in  white  on  their  backs,  showing  the  number  of  the 
house  in  which  they  lived,  each  should  carry  a  lengthy  stave 
with  gilt  knobs,  the  center  one  of  gold  to  be  carried  by  the 
big  blonde,  the  knobs  on  the  staves  of  the  other  two  should 
be  of  silver, — the  madam  thought  that  would  be  very  im- 
pressive. 

The  box  that  she  had  engaged  would  only  hold  six, 
that  would  be  herself  and  colored  maid,  Clementina  IMon- 
tague,  Seraphina  Trudell,  Lomenia  La  Blanc-he  and  Margue- 
rita  Voltercharap.  Those  girls  had  to  have  furs  as  well  as 
some  extra  finery  suitable  for  so  auspicious  an  occasion.   So 


RESIGNED  83 

their  score  was  increased,  the  latter  three,  being  long  in  the 
service  and  knowing  the  wiles  and  methods  of  the  madam, 
did  not  owe  much.  With  Clementina  Montague  it  was  dif- 
ferent. She  knew  enough,  however,  to  know  her  bill  would 
receive  a  considerable  boost. 

One  afternoon,  while  talking  over  the  affairs  in  the 
back  parlor,  giving  the  four  who  had  to  occupy  the  box 
with  her  a  little  instructions  as  to  their  line  of  conduct  at 
the  ball,  and  showing  them  the  furs  she  had  bought  which 
she  vowed  were  of  the  very  best,  some  of  her  listeners  looked 
at  one  another  significantly.  Clementina  Montague  paid  no 
attention  whatsoever — when  the  colored  woman  announced 
a  visitor. 

"What  kind  of  a  fellow  is  he?"  inquired  Sadie,  not 
earing  to  be  interrupted  at  the  time. 

"A  clerical  looking  man  with  a  young  woman." 

"What  is  she  like?"  said  the  madam,  getting  imme- 
diately interested  in  finding  a  young  woman  was  part  of 
the  visitors. 

"0,  I  think  they  are  begging,"  replied  the  negress. 

' '  Go  find  out  what  they  are  after  and  come  and  tell  me. 
You  see  I'm  busy." 

The  colored  woman  returned  in  a  short  while  and  said : 
"They  want  to  see  yourself." 

"Well,  tell  them  to  come  in." 

A  very  sanctimonious  looking  man  entered,  followed  by 
a  young  woman  who  could  not  be  over  twenty  years  of  age. 
She  stood  very  demure  looking  at  the  madam  and  the  four 
young  women  who  each  in  turn  looked  at  her. 

"Well,  sir,  what  can  I  do  for  you?" 

"Good  afternoon,  ladies,"  smiling  graciously. 

The  women  took  their  eyes  from  the  girl  who  accom- 
panied and  inclined  their  heads  toward  him. 


84  RESIGNED 

**What  is  it?  Spit  it  out!"  said  the  madam,  showing 
some  impatience. 

"Well,  you  see,  ma'am,  we  are  collecting  for  the  South 
African  mission,  and  we  came  to  see  if  you  would  contribute 
something  toward  the  spreading  of  religious  truths  among 
the  poor,  benighted  people  who  inhabit  the  dark  continent. 
We  are  at  great  expense  to  keep  the  service  in  that  remote 
region  in  a  manner  it  should  be." 

A  couple  of  his  listeners  began  to  titter. 

Martha  Hill  looked  first  at  him  and  then  at  the  girl. 
Her  mind  revolted  at  the  idea.  Could  any  sanctity  be  se- 
cured from  money  obtained  from  such  a  source? 

"Don't  you  think  you  could  find  enough  to  do  among 
the  niggers  here,"  remarked  Sadie,  "without  going  to 
Africa  ? ' ' 

"Ah,  we  have  our  mission  here,  madam.  We  are  not 
unmindful  of  our  obligations  to  the  poor  colored  people  here 
in  Chicago." 

"Well,  I  don't  think  you're  making  much  impression 
on  them." 

"I  admit  it's  a  great  task,  but  we  are  untiring  in  our 
efforts. ' ' 

"Indeed!  Is  that  young  woman  with  you  a  mis- 
sionary ? ' ' 

"Yes,  we  hope  to  send  her  out  with  the  next  consign- 
ment." 

"How  do  you  think  a  couple  of  those  would  do?"  smil- 
ing and  looking  in  the  direction  of  Lomenia  La  Blanche  and 
Seraphiua  Trudell,  who  had  long  held  residence  in  the  Blom- 
garten  house  of  infamy.    Both  women  smiled. 

"I  think,"  said  the  madam,  continuing,  "they  could 
convert  more  negroes  than  either  you  or  her." 


I 


^l^/l^ 


Al-RICAN    MissioxARiEe 


RESIGNED  85 

La  Blanche,  Trudell  and  the  Volterchamp  women 
laughed  heartily  at  the  idea.    Martha  Hill  frowned. 

"Ah,  you  see,  madam,  it  requires  a  special  training  for 
the  work  we're  employed  in." 

"Well  you  may  depend  upon  those  girls  of  mine  having 
winning  ways.  I  think  they'd  make  some  impression  on 
some  of  the  old  chiefs  out  there. ' ' 

"Probably  they  would,  ma'am,  if  they  had  the  neces- 
sary inspiration,"  he  said,  smiling. 

"Do  you  expect  to  go  out  there.  Miss?"  inquired  the 
madam,  looking  at  the  young  woman. 

"Yes,  ma'am,  I  hope  to  get  a  call  in  the  near  future." 

"Aren't  you  afraid  they'll  eat  you?" 

"The  blood  of  the  martyr  is  the  seed  of  the  church," 
replied  the  girl  in  a  resigned  tone. 

"Well,  here's  a  five-dollar  bill  for  you,  Miss.  If  you 
can  convert  a  few  niggers  in  Hooloo-Galoo-land  go  and  do 
it,  but  never  advise  any  of  them  to  come  to  Chicago.  We've 
enough  savages  here  already,  and,  if  you  should  change  your 
mind  about  going,  come  and  see  me." 

The  young  missionary  took  the  five-dollar  bill,  and 
thanked  the  donor,  while  the  sanctimonious  looking  escort 
she  had  with  her  turned  the  white  of  his  eyes  up  to  the  ceil- 
ing as  if  in  the  act  of  invoking  a  blessing  on  the  madam  and 
her  fair  assistants,  after  which  they  took  their  departure 
amidst  the  hilarious  laughter  of  three  of  Madam  Blomgar- 
ten's  proteges.  Martha  Hill  felt  a  sickening  sensation,  to 
think,  even  in  the  cause  of  religion  or  charity,  young  women 
of  good  character  should  ever  enter  a  place  dedicated  to 
sin  and  shame. 


86  THE  FIRST  WARD  DEMOCRATIC  BALL 

CHAPTER  XII. 
THE  FIRST  WARD  DEMOCRATIC  BALL. 

In  the  vast  hall,  where  the  annual  round-up  of  the  un- 
savory and  vicious  had  to  take  place,  there  assembled  a 
crowd  of  pimps  and  prostitutes  that  could  not  be  gathered 
together,  at  one  time  and  in  one  place,  in  any  other  city  of 
the  habitable  globe,  not  even  in  Paris,  noted  for  its  demi- 
monde and  their  revelries;  or  is  it  reasonable  to  suppose 
for  a  moment  that  Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  in  the  zenith  of 
their  notoriety,  could  have  produced  an  outpouring,  more 
to  the  taste  of  his  Satanic  Majesty? 

It  is  not  to  be  understood,  however,  that  all  those  as- 
sembled belonged  to  the  underworld.  Many  of  those  present 
had  come  to  gaze  on  the  assemblage  so  widely  advertised, 
not  alone  by  those  who  reaped  the  fruits  of  its  success,  but 
also  those  who,  fierce  in  their  opposition  to  the  putrid  affair, 
gave  interviews  to  the  press  in  condemnation — that  so  ex- 
cited the  curiosity  of  the  general  public  that  thousands 
flocked  to  the  function  to  see  for  themselves  the  character 
of  the  assemblage,  and  the  manner  in  which  it  was  con- 
ducted. 

As  a  rule,  those  took  refuge  in  the  galleries  which,  like 
the  floor,  was  crowded  to  suffocation,  for  here  they  could 
better  obtain  a  view  of  the  confidence  men  and  courtezans, 
without  having  to  rub  elbows  with  them. 

Many  others,  less  scrupulous,  remained  on  the  floor,  so 
as  to  be  in  closer  proximity,  and  see  at  shorter  range  the 
showy,  bedizened  brothel  keepers  and  their  scarlet  assist- 
ants. 


THE  FIRST  WARD  DEMOCRATIC  BALL  87 

On  this  special  occasion,  at  an  early  hour  the  galleries 
were  crowded  to  their  full  capacity,  so  that  many  had  to 
content  themselves  with  standing  on  the  stairs  leading 
thereto. 

Fathers  and  mothers,  husbands  and  wives,  young  and 
old,  craning  their  necks  to  look  down  upon  that  group  of 
hopeless  degenerates!  The  thoughtful  wondered  what  Chi- 
cago was  coming  to,  or  how  a  Christian  community  could 
tolerate  so  loathsome  an  exhibition.  Some  left  early,  dis- 
gusted at  what  they  had  seen,  but  many  stayed  to  the  end. 
The  unwholesome  spectacle  will  linger  in  the  minds  of  those 
who  stayed  to  see  the  close  of  the  orgie  for  all  time. 

And  this  in  the  name  of  Democracy ! 

There  were  two  bands  in  opposite  sections  of  the  gallery 
which  at  an  early  hour  alternately  played  popular  airs,  or 
pieces  acceptable  to  the  dancers  who,  anxious  to  participate 
in  the  mazes  of  the  Art  terpsichorean,  began  to  select  part- 
ners and  flounce  around  the  well-polished  floor. 

None  were  allowed  to  enter  the  space  set  aside  for 
dancers,  except  those  who  wore  masks.  This  was  small 
restraint,  however,  as  masks  were  cheap.  As  soon  as  many 
of  the  women  passed  the  portals,  they  lifted  their  masks 
above  their  foreheads,  so  that  those  who  knew  them,  or 
were  desirous  of  making  their  acquaintance,  (formal  intro- 
duction being  absolutely  unnecessary),  could  get  a  full  view 
of  their  brazen  faces.  The  veterans  were  easily  recognized 
by  the  lavish  amount  of  paint  on  their  cheeks,  eyebrows  and 
lips ;  art  being  utilized  to  cover  up  the  ravages  of  outraged 
nature. 

About  ten  o'clock  things  began  to  get  lively,  many  of 
the  boxes  were  occupied,  corks  began  to  pop,  and  cham- 
pagne began  to  flow.  In  the  basement  where  beer  was  the 
order  of  the  hour,  nearly  every  seat  was  occupied.     The 


88  THE  FIRST  WARD  DEMOCRATIC  BALL 

lower  strata  of  harlotry  received  most  attention  here.  A 
little  later  in  the  evening,  when  more  hilarious,  they  joined 
the  busy  throng  on  the  upper  floor.  Ten  P.  M.  was  con- 
sidered early  for  the  night  hawks,  however. 

Shortly  after  ten,  Madam  Blomgarten  and  her  four  as- 
sistants arrived,  the  colored  maid  bringing  up  the  rear. 
There  was  an  immediate  buzz  among  the  crowd,  as  a  grand 
dame  had  arrived,  and  two  of  the  ushers  ran  forward  to 
escort  them  through  the  crowd.  Madam  Blomgarten  bowed 
right  and  left  to  many  who  recognized  her,  as  behooved  a 
royal  personage  who  stood  in  high  esteem  among  those  who 
gazed  in  admiration  at  her  and  the  extravagantly  dressed 
women  who  followed  in  her  wake.  All  four  were  fairly 
good  looking.  Three  of  them  were  somewhat  faded,  but 
paint  and  powder  furnished  a  substitute  for  the  bloom 
that  still  remained  on  the  cheeks  of  Clementina  Montague, 
whose  demure  bearing  strongly  contrasted  with  the  profes- 
sional smiles  of  her  three  associates.  They  had  many  ac- 
quaintances on  account  of  their  long  experience  in  their 
profession,  who  smiled  or  nodded  to  them  as  they  passed. 

Arrived  at  the  box  reserved  for  them,  each  of  the  women 
took  off  her  furs  and  handed  them  to  the  colored  maid  who 
occupied  a  seat  in  the  rear. 

Madam  Blomgarten,  addressing  her  subordinates,  said: 

"Clementina,  you  and  Miss  La  Blanche  sit  on  the  front 
seats,  you  and  Miss  Trudell, ' '  addressing  Miss  Volterchamp, 
*'will  occupy  those  seats,"  alluding  to  those  immediately 
behind  the  two  first  named.  She,  like  a  practical  business 
woman,  was  occupying  a  center  seat  behind  the  last  named 
two,  crowding  her  colored  maid  into  a  remote  corner.  This 
arrangement  was  for  the  purpose  of  better  showing  off  her 
wares. 

A  crowd  began  to  gather  around  the  box,  and  stare  at 


THE  FIRST  WARD  DEMOCRATIC  BALL  89 

Martha  and  her  associates.  Madam  Blomgarten  was  nod- 
ding to  some  people  she  recognized. 

A  well-dressed  man,  in  evening  costume,  stood  outside 
the  rail,  in  the  rear  of  the  box,  waiting  until  the  madam 
would  turn  so  as  to  attract  her  attention.  When  she  did, 
she  tugged  at  Clementina's  sleeve. 

"Clementina,"  she  whispered,  "Mr.  Dent." 

Clementina  bent  over  to  speak  to  him.  He  was  a  steady 
patron  of  the  house  of  Blomgarten  and,  though  a  libertine, 
had  the  manner  and  air  of  a  gentleman. 

"Will  you  have  a  seat?"  said  the  madam,  addressing 
him.    "We  can  make  room  for  you." 

"No,  thank  you,"  he  said,  smiling.  "I  just  wanted  to 
pay  my  respects  to  Clementina,  and  buy  her  a  drink."  A 
waiter  stood  at  attention. 

"Bring  a  half  dozen  bottles." 

"Yes,  sir." 

The  waiter  ran  to  fill  the  order.  On  his  return,  he  drew 
the  cork  from  one  of  the  bottles,  and  filled  five  glasses. 
Each  of  the  four  white  women  took  a  glass,  as  did  Mr.  Dent, 
who  reached  forward  his  glass  so  that  Clementina  might 
touch  hers  with  his.  She  smiled,  he  bowed.  Dent  paid  the 
bill. 

Clementina,  seeing  Mr.  Dent's  desire  to  speak  to  her, 
rose  from  her  seat  and  came  toward  him,  having  to  lean 
over  the  madam's  lap,  on  account  of  the  smallness  of  the 
compartment. 

"Clementina,  you  look  more  beautiful  than  ever,"  he 
whispered  to  her,  but  plainly  audible  to  the  madam,  who 
smiled  her  approval.  "I  will  be  around  a  little  later,"  he 
whispered,  as  he  took  his  departure. 

"Miss  Montague,  I  am  a  little  jealous  of  you  over  Mr. 


90  THE  FIRST  WARD  DEMOCRATIC  BALL 

Dent,"  said  the  madam  jokingly  to  her  protege,  "A  few 
friends  like  him  and  your  bread  will  be  buttered  on  both 
sides." 

The  other  three  women  in  the  group  smiled  their  ap- 
proval. Clementina  took  her  place  in  front,  the  waiter 
pulled  the  cork  of  another  bottle  and,  laying  it  on  the  little 
table,  stood  attention.  A  friend  of  Miss  La  Blanche  ar- 
rived, and  after  a  brief  talk  which  seemed  to  be  very  agree- 
able to  Miss  La  Blanche,  who  smiled,  and  patted  him  on  the 
cheek  with  her  fan,  he  ordered  three  bottles,  and,  after 
taking  a  drink,  went  his  way.  In  due  time  the  patrons  ot 
the  other  two  ladies  came,  and,  after  a  little  by-talk,  which 
seemed  to  amuse  them,  ordered  champagne,  took  a  drink 
or  two  and  went  their  way.  In  a  brief  time  the  table  in  the 
compartment  occupied  by  the  Blomgarten  retinue  was  cov- 
ered with  champagne  bottles,  a  mark  of  distinct  popularity. 
The  wine  was  so  abundant  that  Miss  La  Blanche  and  her 
two  experienced  associates  were  able  to  treat  some  of  their 
less  prosperous  friends  who,  though  unable  to  purchase, 
had  a  vigorous  desire  to  consume. 

Clementina,  not  having  the  proper  caste,  persisted  in 
inviting  the  colored  maid  to  take  some,  which  she  did  with 
alacrity. 

It  was  now  near  eleven,  and  Madam  Blomgarten  was 
gazing  somewhat  anxiously  toward  the  main  entrance.  At 
last  a  commotion  was  observed  at  that  part  of  the  hall. 
Many  ran  to  see  what  it  was  about.  It  took  a  number  of 
ushers  to  make  way  through  the  crowd,  out  of  which  there 
appeared  three  women  walking  abreast.  They  had  on 
Duchess  of  Queensberry  hats,  the  center  one  having  two 
large  black  ostrich  plumes  in  it.  The  other  two  Iiad  white 
plumes.  They  wore  black  dominoes,  on  the  back  of  which 
in  large  white  figures  was  the  number  of  Madam  Blomgar- 


THE  FIRST  WARD  DEMOCRATIC  BALL  91 

ten's  seminary  of  vice.  Each  had  a  stave  in  her  hand;  the 
center  one  of  the  three,  the  big  blonde,  had  a  gold  knob  on 
the  top  of  hers,  the  other  two  had  silver  ones.  The  women 
had  trains  to  their  dresses,  each  being  carried  by  pages. 
Their  entrance  caused  a  marked  sensation,  it  being  demon- 
strated that  Madam  Blomgarten  had  carried  off  the  honors 
of  the  evening.  As  the  women  paraded  around  the  floor 
reserved  for  dancers,  they  were  followed  by  a  vast  con- 
course of  people  crowding  one  another  to  get  a  view  of  the 
Grand  Harlots,  representing  one  of  the  leading  houses  of 
ill  fame.  On  reaching  the  box  occupied  by  the  madam,  they 
right-faced  and  stood  at  attention  as  if  for  inspection. 
Hundreds  clapped  their  hands  in  approval.  Madam  Blom- 
garten came  to  the  front  of  her  box  and  bowed  right  and 
left  to  her  admirers,  just  as  a  prima  donna  might  be  called 
to  the  front  of  the  stage  by  an  appreciative  audience  for  an 
encore.  Some  cried  "A  speech!  A  speech!"  but  this  was 
not  in  her  line,  or  her  modesty  forbade.  She  beckoned  to 
the  big  blonde  who,  on  coming  toward  her,  received  instruc- 
tions to  parade  through  the  whole  building,  where  the  crowd 
was  not  too  dense.  The  madam  knew  the  value  of  advertis- 
ing, and  this  was  not  only  unique  but  forcible  and  agreeable 
to  the  men  higher  up,  who  knew  the  madam  could  be  bled 
more  copiously  on  their  next  grand  carnival. 

At  this  hour  the  festival  was  at  its  zenith.  The  lavish 
consumption  of  wine  was  telling  on  the  women,  who  lost  all 
reserve  and  passed  ribald  jokes  with  all  who  came  in  close 
proximity  to  the  boxes.  Youths  of  tender  years  solicited 
champagne  that  was  handed  out  to  many  a  beardless  boy. 
Old  men  capered  on  the  floor  with  girls  of  tender  age,  but 
seemingly  ripe  experience.  In  the  basement,  where  the 
lower  strata  of  the  underworld  took  refuge,  there  was  a 
general  debauch.     The  abandoned  women  smoked,  cursed, 


92  THE  FIRST  WARD  DEMOCRATIC  BALL 

and  used  vile  language  to  the  amusement  and  delight  of 
their  male  entertainers.  Beer  flowed  like  water.  The  busy 
waiters  hurried  hither  and  thither  to  the  cry  of  "Here, 
waiter,  bring  us  some  beer!"  It  was  nearly  all  served  in 
bottles,  as  on  those  most  profit  was  realized.  One  lady,  well 
in  her  cups,  insisted  in  dancing  on  one  of  the  tables,  to  the 
great  delight  of  numerous  spectators,  who  clapped  their 
hands  in  approval. 

Upstairs  the  managers  were  discussing  the  advisability 
of  commencing  the  grand  march,  and  soon,  with  the  approval 
of  the  leading  functionary,  a  bugler  in  one  of  the  bands  was 
instructed  to  make  the  announcement  by  a  few  vigorous 
blasts  on  his  instrument.  The  gathering  seemed  to  under- 
stand the  call,  as  there  was  a  rush  from  all  sections  to  the 
point  of  starting.  Many  of  the  young  ladies,  who  occupied 
the  boxes,  began  to  scramble  over  the  rail  so  as  to  get  to 
the  dancing  floor.  To  accomplish  this  feat,  they  had  to 
place  one  leg  over  the  barrier,  which,  in  many  cases,  caused 
a  good  deal  of  their  lingerie  and  silk  stockings  to  be  ex- 
posed, amid  hearty  laughter  by  the  onlookers,  but  invok- 
ing neither  resentment  nor  embarrassment  in  the  fair  dam- 
sels, who  rushed  off  to  seek  partners  for  the  grand  march. 
Miss  La  Blanche,  eager  to  join  in  the  procession,  jumped  to 
her  feet,  and  had  one  of  her  legs  over  the  dividing  rail 
when  the  madam,  remonstrating  with  her  for  her  lack  of 
dignity,  pulled  her  back  to  that  young  lady's  chagrin,  who, 
spying  in  the  crowd  one  of  her  early  managers  when  she 
was  an  amateur  in  the  profession,  was  anxious  to  join  him. 

Our  ladies  of  special  mention  had  indulged  freely  in 
the  alluring  but  deceptive  wine.  Martha  Hill  had  taken 
sparingly,  compared  with  her  colleagues.  She  had  taken 
enough,  however,  to  warm  her  blood  without  benumbing 
her  brain.     She  was  fully  alive  to  all  that  was  going  on, 


THE  FIRST  WARD  DEMOCRATIC  BALL  93 

and   looked   with   interest   upon   the    busy   scene   with   its 
excited  throng. 

At  length,  the  Grand  Marshal  took  his  position  at  the 
head  of  the  ranks.  The  band  blazoned  forth  a  suitable  air, 
and  the  grand  march  was  on.  Many  of  those  wearing 
badges  had  choice  positions  well  up  in  the  front  with  mem- 
bers of  the  demi-monde  on  their  arms.  At  the  commence- 
ment of  the  parade,  a  circle  of  the  hall  was  necessary,  so 
that  proper  formation  of  the  line  could  be  obtained.  As  the 
advancing  column  approached  the  box  in  which  Martha 
Hill  sat,  she  suddenly  jumped  to  her  feet,  and,  pointing  her 
finger  at  a  man  who  was  approaching,  she  exclaimed  in  an 
excited  manner,  ''Who  is  that  man?"  Miss  La  Blanche, 
who  was  standing  close  behind  her,  said,  "Him  with  the 
woman  with  the  scarlet  dress?  Why,  that's  Ike  Rosenthal." 
"What  is  he!"  she  exclaimed.  "A  pimp,"  replied  Miss 
Volterchamp,  with  contempt.  Just  as  this  moment,  Ike 
Rosenthal  and  his  fair  partner,  to  whom  he  had  been  talk- 
ing, reached  the  Blomgarten's  box.  Martha  Hill  clutched  a 
glass  which  was  standing  on  the  table,  and,  as  Ike  Rosenthal 
turned  toward  the  box  at  the  moment,  threw  it  full  into  his 
face.  There  was  an  immediate  panic.  Rosenthal  let  out  an 
oath,  and  made  for  the  box,  swearing  that  he'd  have  her  life. 
She  grabbed  one  of  the  champagne  bottles  and,  brandishing 
it  in  her  hand,  attempted  to  strike  him  with  it,  but  was 
restrained  by  Miss  La  Blanche,  who  held  her  arm,  while  a 
man  in  the  procession  held  onto  Ike  Rosenthal.  "You  dirty 
cow,"  he  exclaimed,  "I'll  get  even  with  you."  "Damn  your 
rotten  soul  in  hell!"  she  hissed  between  her  teeth,  as  her 
associates  in  the  box  closed  around  her.  A  policeman  rushed 
to  the  front.  One  who  was  in  command  ordered  Madam 
Blomgarten  to  remove  that  woman,  or  else  he'd  lock  her  up. 
The  madam,   white  with  rage,   cursed  Clementina,   shout- 


94  THE  FIRST  WARD  DEMOCRATIC  BALL 

ing,  "You  have  disgraced  us,  and  we  were  doing  so  well!** 
she  exclaimed,  as  if  she  was  about  to  cry;  falling  back  in 
her  seat,  while  Martha's  associates  stood  between  her  and 
the  crowd.  One  young  fellow,  getting  through  the  cordon 
of  police,  yelled,  "Let  us  pull  her  out!"  He  had  no  sooner 
made  the  suggestion  than  Mugsy,  who  had  rushed  to  his 
mistress's  box  on  seeing  the  commotion,  struck  him  full  in 
the  face,  and  threatingly  menaced  other  youngsters  bent 
on  mischief.  Two  or  three  outsiders  who  had  entered  the 
box  from  the  rear,  passing  by  the  colored  woman,  were 
driven  out  by  the  police,  who,  now  having  sufficient  force, 
formed  a  cordon  around  the  box,  while  some  of  the  manag- 
ers of  the  entertainment  led  Ike  Rosenthal  away,  his  white 
shirt  dress  suit  and  badge  bespattered  with  wine.  The 
parade  was  broken  up  for  a  time,  until  one  of  the  leaders 
of  the  orgie  came  forward  and  peremptorily  gave  instruc- 
tions to  the  police  to  remove  that  woman.  He  in  turn  told 
the  madam  if  she  would  not  take  her  out,  he  would.  Madam 
was  in  doubt  for  a  moment  as  to  whether  she  would  let  the 
policeman  do  it  or  not,  but,  finally  coming  to  the  conclusion 
that  her  evening  was  spoiled  anyway,  resolved  to  go  home. 
Gathering  up  their  furs,  and  escorted  by  a  number  of 
police  to  a  carriage  that  was  secured  for  them,  the  colored 
woman  having  to  sit  up  with  the  driver,  they  set  out  for 
home,  Madam  Blomgarten  berating  Martha  all  the  way  for 
the  disgrace  and  ruin  she  had  brought  on  her.  Martha, 
suffering  from  the  reaction,  was  deaf  to  all  her  denuncia- 
tions. • 


REBELLION  95 

CHAPTER  XIIL 

REBELLION. 

On  arriving  at  the  brothel  after  the  ball,  Martha  Hill 
sought  the  seclusion  of  her  own  room,  sick  at  heart  and 
weary  of  limb,  the  reaction  following  the  excitement  of 
seeing  her  betrayer  for  the  first  time  since  their  fatal  meet- 
ing arousing  whatever  little  combativeness  there  was  in  her 
gentle  nature.  She  was  anxious  to  avoid  the  scathing  tongue 
of  her  owner.  On  reaching  her  room  she  threw  herself  on 
the  bed  and  wept  bitter  tears,  as  the  memory  of  the  loved 
ones  she  had  lost  forever  came  prominently  to  her  mind. 
The  name  of  Ike  Rosenthal  sank  deep  into  her  memory; 
she  would  never  forget  it.  She  lay  long  awake.  At  length 
nature  required  her  to  rest ;  she  fell  asleep  and  dreamed,  as 
she  had  often  done  before,  of  brighter  and  happier  days. 
It  was  well  into  noon  when  she  awoke  to  the  stern  reality 
with  an  aching  heart  caused  by  the  hopelessness  of  her  con- 
dition, and  an  aching  head  through  an  over-indulgence  in 
wine,  though  she  had  drunk  sparingly  in  comparison  with 
her  three  associates,  who  were  more  accustomed  to  such 
libations.  Madam  Blomgarten  continued  to  rave  about  the 
disgrace  that  had  been  brought  upon  her,  especially  after 
the  magnificent  program  she  had  laid  out  and  which  was 
running  with  such  marked  success  until  Clementina  behaved 
so  outrageously. 

"And  after  all  I  have  done  for  her!" 

This   last   utterance   of   hers  was  too   much   for  Miss 


96  REBELLION 

Volterchamp,  who  had  taken  freely  of  the  wine,  and  told 
lier  to  shut  up. 

"All  you  have  done  for  her !  You  do  a  lot  for  anybody. 
It's  us  that  are  doing  everything  for  you." 

Madam  Blomgarten  looked  at  her  in  amazement.  She 
wasn't  in  the  habit  of  hearing  back-talk  in  her  slave  pen. 
Rebellion  was  promptly  suppressed  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances. She  would  say  to  her  veterans,  "If  you  grumble 
you  go.  Come,  Mugsy,  see  that  this  one  packs  up  and 
quick."  Mugsy,  as  chief  bouncer,  beckoned  them  to  go. 
They  knew  what  he  meant,  and  hastened  to  get  ready.  If 
they  attempted  to  get  another  place  of  similar  standing  in 
society,  the  boycott  was  invoked.  Madam's  influence  with 
the  men  higher  up,  as  they  are  called,  and  the  collector 
closed  the  select  houses  against  them,  so  that  they  had  to 
take  refuge  in  houses  of  a  lower  and  cheaper  grade. 

Madam  Blomgarten  was  about  to  show  her  authority 
over  Miss  Volterchamp,  when  Miss  La  Blanche  chimed  in, 
"Yes,  cut  it  out,  we  have  heard  enough  of  your  philanthropy 
to  your  girls.  Clem  showed  spunk  when  she  threw  the  wine 
in  his  face.  I'm  sorry  I  didn't  let  her  brain  him  with  the 
bottle,  the  dirty  little  pimp." 

"So  you're  defending  her  too!"  shouted  the  madam. 
"Well,  I  can  live  without  you  two." 

"Well,  we  can  live  without  you!"  yelled  Miss  La 
Blanche  back  to  her. 

"And  me  too;  count  me  in,"  said  Miss  Trudell.  "And 
if  we  go,  we'll  take  Clem  with  us.  You  can't  bulldose  us 
the  same  as  you  have  done  her.  If  we  go,  she'll  go  too  and 
you  can't  stop  her," 

The  magnitude  of  the  rebellion  staggered  Sadie.  She 
was  rip-roaring  mad,  but  was  lost  for  a  suitable  reply. 

Just  then,  the  big  blonde  arrived.    She  had  been  tramp- 


REBELLION  97 

mg  around  the  floor  of  the  dance  hall  with  her  two  asso- 
ciates, advertising  Madam  Blomgarten's  establishment,  and 
had  been  jostled  by  the  crowd  who  surged  in  front  of  her, 
in  rear  of  her,  and  on  both  flanks  of  the  trio  to  get  a  better 
look  at  them  and  to  note  the  numbers  on  their  backs.  She 
had  hardly  time  to  get  a  drink,  as  she  afterward  remarked. 

As  she  entered  the  back  parlor  she  saw  the  commotion, 
"^hat  the  h 's  up!"  she  exclaimed. 

"Why,  Sadie's  jumping  on  us  on  account  of  what  Clem 
done  to  Sheeny  Ike,  and  prating  about  all  she  has  done  for 
us  girls." 

"Is  she!"  shouted  the  blonde.  **Don't  we  do  anything 
for  her?  I've  been  tramping  around  all  night  like  a  hobo 
with  a  sign  on  his  back,  until  I'm  Jiardly  fit  to  stand.  I 
suppose  she  counts  that  nothing  either," 

This  was  too  much  for  Madam  Blomgarten,  who,  bounc- 
ing from  her  chair,  shouted,  "I'm  going  to  bed!" 

"Pleasant  dreams  to  you!"  yelled  Miss  Volterchamp 
after  her,  while  Miss  La  Blanche,  very  unlady-like,  put  out 
her  tongue  at  the  retreating  madam. 

Miss  Trudell  took  a  fit  of  laughing.  She  thoroughly 
enjoyed  the  joke. 

"Where's  Clem?"  inquired  the  blonde. 

* '  She 's  up  in  bed, ' '  responded  Miss  La  Blanche.  * '  She 's 
done  for;  played  out." 

The  colored  maid,  hearing  the  controversy  from  the 
passage,  retired  to  the  kitchen,  as  soon  as  she  saw  her  mis- 
tress wending  her  way  upstairs. 

Just  at  this  moment,  the  colored  sentinel,  who  kept 
watch  at  the  door,  put  his  head  in  and  announced,  "Some 
gentlemen  in  the  parlor." 

"Go  tell  them  the  house  is  on  the  bum,  closed  for  the 


98  REBELLION 

night!"  shouted  the  big  blonde.  He  stood  for  a  moment  in 
blank  astonishment. 

** Didn't  you  hear  me!"  yelled  the  blonde. 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

''Then  go  and  tell  them."  In  a  few  moments  the  sound 
of  retiring  footsteps  could  be  heard  in  the  hall. 

''Now,  girls,"  said  the  blonde.  "I  propose  we  make 
a  night  of  it.    What  say  you  if  we  get  some  wine?" 

"I'm  agreeable,"  remarked  Miss  Volterchamp.  "But 
who 's  going  to  pay  for  it,  and  how  are  we  going  to  get  it  ? " 

"Oh,  we'll  get  it,"  said  the  blonde,  who  seemed  bent 
on  mischief.  "You  follow  me."  She  went  toward  the 
kitchen  where  the  colored  woman  had  made  some  prepara- 
tion for  early  refreshments,  which  it  was  customary  to  serve 
to  wealthy  patrons.    A  kettle  was  singing  on  the  stove. 

"Dinah,"  said  the  blonde,  "we  want  some  wine." 

"Is  there  gentlemen  in  the  parlor,"  inquired  the  col- 
ored maid. 

"No,  we  want  it  for  ourselves." 

"0  no,  Miss,  you  wouldn't  expect  me  to  do  that?" 

"Yes  we  do!"  exclaimed  Miss  Volterchamp,  who  took 
second  part  only  to  the  blonde. 

"I'll  soon  make  her  give  up  the  key!"  yelled  the 
blonde,  grabbing  the  handle  of  the  boiling  kettle,  which  was 
so  hot,  that  she  had  to  let  go  of  it,  but,  reaching  for  a  towel 
which  she  placed  around  the  handle,  she  lifted  the  kettle  in 
a  menacing  manner  toward  the  colored  maid.  "Now  give 
up  the  key,  or  I'll  scald  you." 

"Wait  till  I  see  the  mistress." 

"Mistress  nobody,  you  give  us  the  key  and  be  quick 
about  it." 

The  colored  wench,  seeing  the  desperation  in  the  eyes 
of  the  big  blonde,  thought  discretion  the  better  part  of  valor, 


REBELLION  99 

and  surrendered  the  key.  The  four  women  went  to  the 
closet  and  each  took  out  two  bottles  of  champagne.  After 
the  big  blonde's  three  partners  in  the  raid  had  walked  out 
with  the  wine  in  their  hands,  the  blonde  took  the  key 
from  the  inside  of  the  kitchen  door,  locked  it  on  the  out- 
side, after  telling  the  colored  woman  to  stay  there  till  they 
wanted  her,  and,  as  all  the  rear  rooms  in  the  Blomgarten 
seraglio  had  barred  windows,  she  was  as  much  a  prisoner 
as  if  she  was  in  the  bridewell. 

There  were  repeated  calls  at  the  Blomgarten  mansion. 
Many  inquiries  were  made  for  the  girl  who  had  created  the 
disturbance  at  the  dance,  but  to  one  and  all  the  big  blonde 
sent  out  the  same  answer:  * 'We're  closed  for  the  night." 
The  colored  inside  guard  knew  it  was  no  use  appealing  to 
his  mistress,  who  at  that  time  lay  like  a  hog,  snoring  vigor- 
ously. So  he  turned  out  the  light  above  the  transom  which 
illumined  the  big  red  pane  of  glass  over  the  door,  with  the 
number  on  it,  and  lay  back  in  his  chair. 

As  the  morning  advanced  other  of  the  madam's  board- 
ers began  to  return,  tired  and  worn  out  from  their  excesses 
at  the  dance.  They  were  soon  informed  of  the  rebellion, 
with  the  discomfiture  and  ignoble  retreat  of  the  madam,  the 
story  of  which  they  enjoyed  immensely  and  began  to  share 
in  the  festivities.  Repeated  calls  were  made  on  the  wine 
closet,  over  the  protest  of  the  colored  maid,  who  was  warned, 
if  she  squealed,  they  would  practice  a  surgical  operation 
on  her  anatomy  that  would  fix  her  for  all  time. 

About  four  in  the  morning  Mugsy  arrived.  He  looked 
with  amazement  in  the  parlor  where  the  entire  staff  of  the 
house  were  in  an  hilarious  condition  at  the  time  of  his  en- 
trance, one  of  the  junior  members  trying  to  do  the  highland 
fling  on  the  back  parlor  table  to  the  delight  of  her  audience, 
who  were  clapping  vigorously. 


100  REBELLION 

"What    the    h 1   is   this!"    he    exclaimed,    looking 

around  for  the  male  patrons  who,  he  expected,  were  pay- 
ing liberally  for  the  festivities. 

"Is  this  a  hen  party?"  looking  in  the  direction  of  the 
big  blonde,  who  was  still  able  to  stand  on  her  feet,  glass  in 
hand. 

"Come  in,  Mugsy,  take  a  drink." 

"What  does  this  mean?"  he  said  to  one  of  the  girls 
who  was  closest  to  him. 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you,"  said  Miss  Volterchamp,  "we've 
fired  the  captain,  and  we're  going  to  scuttle  the  ship."  At 
this  sally  many  of  the  girls,  wlio  weren't  too  far  gone, 
laughed  heartily. 

"Well,  I'm  going  to  do  a  little  firing  too,  and  if  the 
whole  bunch  of  you  don't  go  right  up  to  bed  while  you  have 
light,  ye '11  be  in  the  dark  in  five  minutes,  because  I'll  turn 
off  the  gas.    Where's  Dinah?" 

"We  have  her  in  chains,"  said  Miss  Volterchamp,  who 
seemed  to  be  of  a  nautical  turn  of  mind  and  was  well  up  in 
pirate  lore. 

"I  think  we'll  want  straight  jackets  for  some  of  you," 
retorted  Mugsy.  "Come,  clear  out,"  as  he  went  toward  the 
chandelier  to  turn  off  the  gas. 

"Well,  take  a  drink  and  we'll  go,"  said  Miss  La 
Blanche. 

Mugsy,  thinking  this  was  the  best  terms  he  could 
make,  accepted  a  glass  of  wine.  Those  of  the  damsels  who 
were  able  began  to  climb  the  stairs.  Three  or  four  who  were 
unable  to  locomote  lay  where  they  fell.  The  colored  maid 
had  to  sleep  in  her  prison  until  the  key  of  the  kitchen  was 
found  after  a  diligent  search  next  morning.  So  ended  the 
rebellion  in  the  regal  house  of  the  Blomgarten. 


A  QUANDARY  101 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
A  QUANDARY. 

Madam  Blomgarten  retired  the  night  of  the  revolt  with 
a  troubled  mind.  It  was  the  first  time  in  her  vast  experi- 
ence in  her  profession  when  she  had  to  confront  a  problem 
of  so  difficult  a  solution.  Her  proud  spirit  as  a  ruler  of 
women  had  met  a  check,  as  they  say  when  hostile  forces 
are  repulsed  by  a  determined  enemy  which  showed  more 
strength  than  was  expected  when  attacked.  Four  of  her 
leading  ladies  had  bidden  her  defiance;  each  of  them  had 
numerous  male  friends  and,  as  she  thought,  ''probably  if 
I  attempt  to  regulate  one  or  all  of  them,  others  in  the  house 
may  take  sides  against  me.  As  for  Clementina,  the  most  I 
can  do  with  her  is  to  give  her  a  lecture,  though  she  is  the 
one  most  to  blame.  I  will  see  Mr.  Dent  about  her  anyway 
and  talk  to  him,  though  I  feel  it  won't  do  me  much  good, 
as  he's  her  steady  patron,  and  his  influence  with  the  men 
higher  up  is  paramount,  owning,  as  he  does,  the  leading 
house  where  supplies  were  purchased  and  a  liberal  commis- 
sion dispensed  to  the  political  managers."  After  ruminat- 
ing for  a  long  time  as  to  what  should  be  her  line  of  action 
in  the  morning  when  she  had  to  face  the  insurgents,  she 
resolved  to  sleep  over  it.  So,  turning  in  her  couch,  her 
troubled  mind  soon  found  repose  in  slumber. 

Having  retired  long  before  the  accustomed  hour,  in  the 
morning  through  the  commotion  in  her  subjects,  she  awoke 
at  an  early  hour.  The  clock  on  the  mantel  chimed  seven, 
and  much  as  she  would  have  liked  to  have  enjoyed  a  much 


102  A  QUANDAEY 

longer  snooze,  try  as  she  would,  the  god  Morpheus  seemed 
to  have  deserted  her,  as  she  had  turned  from  the  god  of 
Israel  many,  many  years  before.  So  she  lay  thinking  and 
tossing  in  her  bed  till  the  clock  struck  eight,  when  she  re- 
solved to  get  up.  Pulling  on  her  stockings  and  placing  her 
feet  in  a  pair  of  slippers,  and  winding  a  commodious  dress- 
ing gown  over  her  well  developed  figure,  she  descended 
toward  the  parlor  floor.  In  taking  a  glance  into  the  parlor 
as  she  was  passing,  her  eyes  were  gladdened  by  the  multi- 
plicity of  empty  champagne  bottles  that  littered  the  table 
and  of  many  that  stood  like  silent  sentries  after  the  fierce 
but,  as  she  thought,  profitable  carousal  of  the  night  before. 
Immediately  her  heart  softened  to  the  delinquents,  when 
she  contemplated  the  profits.  She  essayed  to  count  the 
bottles,  but  as  they  were  so  numerous  and  in  so  many  parts 
of  the  commodious  parlors  she  gave  it  up,  feeling  sure  that 
Dinah,  who  was  custodian  of  the  wine  and  liquor  supply, 

had  kept  faithful  tab.    "They  must  have  had  a  h 1  of  a 

time,"  she  thought,  as  she  noticed  the  unaccustomed  dis- 
order, '*I  suppose  the  house  is  full  of  patrons."  So  she 
resolved  then  and  there  to  let  bygones  be  bygones  and  at 
the  noon  day  lunch,  if  the  rebels  showed  up,  to  pass  the 
fracas  of  the  night  before  as  a  joke,  not  even  mentioning 
the  matter  to  Mr.  Dent,  unless  he  himself  should  revert  to 
the  question. 

''I'll  awake  Dinah  and  have  her  make  me  a  cup  of 
coffee.  I  suppose  she,  poor  woman,  was  up  all  night  too." 
Going  to  a  little  cubby  hole  at  the  rear  of  the  house  where 
Dinah  bunked,  she  was  surprised  to  find  it  vacant.  "I  sup- 
pose, poor  girl,  she  was  so  played  out  that  she  went  to  sleep 
in  the  kitchen,"  was  her  next  thought.  On  descending  the 
stairs  and  reaching  the  kitchen,  she  tried  to  open  the  door, 
but,  on  finding  it  fast,  she  knocked  loudly,  crying,  "Dinah, 


A  QUANDARY  103 

open  the  door!''  The  voice  from  the  inside  shouted,  "I 
can't,  I  am  locked  in!" 

"Locked  in?" 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

"Who  locked  you  in?" 

"The  boarders,  ma'am." 

"Why  did  you  let  them!"  shrieked  the  madam. 

"I  couldn't  help  it,  ma'am.  They  threatened  to  scald 
me  with  the  boiling  water,  and  to  do  all  sorts  of  cruel  things 
to  me.  I  believed  they  would  have  murdered  me  if  I  resisted 
them." 

"Why  didn't  you  run  out  and  cry  for  help?  Where 
was  Mugsy?" 

"I  s'pose  he  was  at  the  dance,  ma'am." 

"Well,  where  was  the  colored  porter?" 

"They  told  him  to  go  to  h 1,  ma'am,  and  clear  out, 

as  the  place  was  closed  for  the  night.  So  I  don't  know  what 
became  of  him." 

"Were  there  no  gentlemen?" 

"Yes,  ma'am.  I  could  hear  the  bell  ringing  frequently, 
but  they  didn't  seem  to  open  the  door." 

"My  God!  this  is  outrageous!  Don't  you  know  where 
the  key  is?" 

"No,  ma'am,  how  could  I  tell  when  they  locked  me  in 
and  took  the  key  with  them?" 

Madam  Blomgarten  burst  into  a  paroxysm  of  passion, 
giving  vent  to  her  feeling  in  language  which,  if  published 
literally,  would  effectually  prohibit  this  work  from  having 
access  through  the  United  States  mail. 

A  sudden  thought  striking  her,  she  turned  and  ran  as 
fast  as  her  corpulency,  age,  and  passion  would  permit  her, 
up  the  first  flight  of  stairs.  As  she  passed  one  of  the  bed 
rooms,  she  looked  in  and  saw  four  of  her  lady  boarders 


104  A  QUANDARY 

lying  heads  and  tails  on  the  one  bed,  with  all  their  clothes 
on.  Climbing  the  next  flight  of  stairs,  panting  for  want  of 
breath,  she  rushed  into  the  room  where  Mugsy  was  sleeping 
and,  grabbing  him  by  the  hair  of  his  head,  shouted,  "Get 
up!" 

He  awoke  with  a  start,  seeing  the  frantic  condition  of 
his  mistress. 

"What's  up!"  he  exclaimed. 

"What's  up?"  she  replied,  with  a  sneer,  **what  isn't 


up 


"Oh,  I  know,"  he  replied,  sitting  up  in  bed. 

"Well,  tell  me  where  were  you  to  allow  this  carrying 
on  in  my  house?    What  do  I  pay  you  for?" 

"Why,  I  didn't  get  home  until  four.  You  know  I  had 
to  stay  at  the  dance  to  see  that  no  one  molested  any  of  our 
girls. ' ' 

"Well,  when  you  got  home,  what  did  you  see?" 

"Why,  every  b in  the  place  was  rip-roaring  drunk 

and  hilarious.  I  raced  them  all  to  bed;  that's  as  many  as 
were  able  to  climb  the  stairs, — saw  that  the  house  was  locked 
up  and,  finding  that  you  had  gone  to  bed,  I  turned  in. ' ' 

"Did  you  see  Dinah?" 

"No,  I  supposed  she  had  gone  to  bed," 

"Well,  she  hadn't.  They  locked  her  in  the  kitchen 
after  robbing  the  wine  closets,  so  she  can't  get  out.  Do  you 
know  where  the  key  is?" 

"No,  I  don't." 

"Get  up  and  find  it,  then."  Madam,  turning  on  her 
heel,  went  down  the  one  flight  of  stairs,  and,  entering  her 
oAvn  room,  fell  into  a  rocker  exhausted  by  the  intensity  of 
her  passion. 

Mugsy  arose,  and,  on  going  to  the  kitchen,  consulted 
the  colored  girl  as  to  who  had  the  key.    She  couldn't  remem- 


A  QUANDARY  105 

ber  who  had  it  last,  but  laid  the  blame  on  the  big  blonde, 
who,  she  said,  was  the  worst  of  all. 

Mugs}^  sought  the  room  usually  occupied  by  that  ag- 
gressive lady,  but  found  it  occupied  by  others.  He  ulti- 
mately found  her  in  another  apartment  in  bed  with  two  of 
her  sisters,  all  sound  asleep.  He  grabbed  her  by  the 
shoulder;  she  let  out  a  grunt.  *'Wake  up!"  he  shouted. 
"Where's  the  key  of  the  kitchen?" 

"I  don't  know.    Let  me  sleep." 

"Get  up  and  find  the  key." 

"No,  I'll  not.  If  you  want  the  key,  go  find  it  yourself," 
turning  over. 

Mugsy  could  hardly  restrain  himself  from  reaching  her 
one,  but  contented  himself  by  placing  his  hand  in  the  pocket 
of  her  dress,  but  found  no  key.  He  then  visited  a  number 
of  the  bed-rooms,  making  inquiries  and  being  met  with 
evasive  or  angry  answers  from  the  sleepy  damsels  who  were 
so  ruthlessly  disturbed.  He  finally  thought  he  would  see 
if  it  was  in  the  parlor.  After  a  diligent  search  he  found  it 
amid  some  of  the  empty  champagne  bottles,  and  he  released 
Dinah,  telling  her  to  hurry  up  and  bring  some  coffee  up  to 
the  missus'  room,  with  a  little  brandy,  as  he  was  afraid  to 
go  near  her, — possibly  she  was  in  a  fit,  if  not  croaked. 

"I'm  going  to  get  a  couple  of  hours  sleep.  This  life  is 
getting  a  little  too  strenuous  for  me." 

Dinah  then  hastily  prepared  the  coffee,  and  with  some 
toast  and  a  half  tumbler  of  brandy  went  up  to  the  madam's 
room,  where  she  found  her  in  a  total  collapse,  the  reaction 
having  set  in.  After  advising  her  to  lie  down  for  a  couple 
of  hours,  as  it  was  not  likely  that  any  of  her  people  would 
be  up  for  some  time,  she  left  her. 


106  A  CONFERENCE 

CHAPTER  XV. 
A  CONFERENCE. 

Madam  Blomgarten  remained  in  her  room  for  some 
time,  meditating  on  what  was  the  best  to  be  done  under  the 
circumstances.  She  was  in  no  mood  to  meet  the  rebels  who, 
she  feared,  were  arrayed  solidly  against  her.  She  resolved 
to  seek  counsel  outside.  So,  dressing  herself  in  her  glad 
clothes,  she  determined  to  visit  the  great  firm  of  Dent  & 
Company,  where,  on  her  arrival,  she  was  ushered  into  the 
private  office  of  the  head  of  the  firm,  being  well  known  to 
the  ushers  of  that  establishment  as  a  very  valuable  cus- 
tomer. 

Mr.  Dent  greeted  her,  very  cordially. 

''Come  in,  Sadie,  and  sit  down.  What  can  we  do  for 
you  today?" 

''I  am  in  great  trouble,  Mr.  Dent.  Your  lady  friend, 
Miss  Montague,  has  upset  my  whole  establishment.  I  sup- 
pose you  heard  how  she  acted  at  the  ball  last  night?" 

"I  was  there  and  saw  the  commotion.  She  must  have 
had  a  grudge  against  that  fellow  Rosenthal.  Was  it  he  that 
first  brought  her  to  your  house?" 

"Yes,  but  she  has  done  real  well  since  she  came.  I've 
introduced  her  to  the  very  best  society,  including  yourself, 
Mr.  Dent,  and  I  cannot,  for  the  life  of  me,  see  what  cause 
she  has  for  complaint." 

"Ah,  Sadie,  I  think  your  sense  of  propriety  and  morals 
is  somewhat  lax.  She  has  not  got  over  the  outrage  that  was 
perpetrated  upon  her  in  spite  of  all  your  coaching,  nor  is 


A  CONFERENX^E  107 

she  likely  to,  I  have  heard  something  of  her  story,  and 
while  you  know  I  am  far  from  being  a  saint,  and  conform 
to  the  conditions  as  we  find  them  in  this  wicked  city,  I 
would  still  take  it  as  a  justifiable  act  if  she  killed  him." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Dent,  you  are  somewhat  of  a  sentimentalist. 
You'll  some  day  blossom  out  as  a  reformer." 

*'No  telling,  but  at  the  present  time  I  am  a  business 
man  and,  though  a  man  of  the  world,  I  never  can  get  away 
from  the  fact  that  I  have  a  wife  and  children,  two  of  whom 
are  girls.  I,  however,  saw  the  performance  last  night  from 
a  safe  distance,  and  must  admit  it  was  deplorable.  But  I 
suppose  you  came  for  my  advice,  and  I  will  give  it  to  you. 
You  grin  and  bear  it.  Pass  it  up  as  the  act  of  a  drunken 
woman, — I  suppose  she  had  drunk  a  lot  of  champagne?" 

"Yes,  but  I  haven't  told  you  the  worst  yet.  When  we 
got  home  and  I  started  in  to  give  her  a  lecture  for  her 
unlady-like  conduct.  Misses  La  Blanche,  Trudell  and  Volter- 
schamp  took  sides  with  her  and  bid  me  defiance  in  my  own 
home ;  but  worst  of  all,  when  that  big  blonde  came  in,  the 
big  cow,  she  was  worse  than  all,  and  began  to  abuse  me 
most  unmercifully,  so  that  I  had  to  leave  them  and  go  to 
my  own  room." 

"A  judicious  retreat,  Sadie;  you  deserve  credit." 

"But  worse  than  that.  As  soon  as  my  back  was  turned 
they  attacked  my  colored  maid,  threatening  to  take  her  life 
if  she  wouldn't  give  up  the  key  of  the  wine  closets,  so  she 
had  to  give  up  the  key  and  then  they  raided  the  closets, 
helping  themselves  to  wine  by  the  dozens  of  bottles,  locking 
my  colored  girl  in  the  kitchen,  so  that  she  couldn't  appeal 
to  me  or  get  any  assistance.  AVhen  Mugsy  arrived  home, 
the  whole  bunch  of  them  was  in  the  parlors,  most  of  them 
speechless  from  the  wine." 

"I  suppose  they'd  had  lots  of  male  company?" 


108  A  CONFERENCE 

"Not  a  man.  They  told  the  colored  man  I  have  on  the 
front  door  that  the  place  was  closed  for  the  night,  so  that 
he  might  as  well  clear  out,  which  it  seems  he  did." 

"Where  was  Clementina  all  this  time?" 

"She  was  up  in  bed." 

"Well,  you  can't  blame  her  for  the  trouble  in  the 
parlors. ' ' 

"Yes  I  do,  for  if  she  hadn't  caused  the  trouble  at  the 
dance  every  thing  would  have  gone  on  in  proper  order. 
And  look  at  the  success  I  would  have ;  my  house  would  have 
been  crowded  day  and  night  for  weeks  after.  Now,  I'm 
afraid  things  are  ruined." 

"Not  so  bad  as  that,  Sadie,  you'll  still  be  able  to  do 
business  at  the  old  stand,  but  I  have  something  to  tell  you 
and  I  want  you  to  act  promptly.  After  Ike  had  left  the  hall, 
accompanied  by  some  six  or  seven  of  his  pals,  they  went  to 
the  saloon  where  they  hold  out.  Ike  was  mad,  and  swore 
by  the  bones  of  his  ancestors  he'd  get  even  with  the  cat. 
First,  he  vowed  he'd  kill  her,  a  praiseworthy  intent  in  the 
estimation  of  some  of  his  pals,  who  are  in  the  same  line  of 
business  as  himself;  but,  after  they  had  caroused  for  a 
certain  time,  he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  killing  her 
would  be  too  humane  an  act,  so  he  resolved  to  disfigure  her. 
*  I  '11  make  her  so  that  when  she  looks  at  herself  in  the  glass 
she'll  hate  herself.'  I  guess  that  he  means  he'll  either  do  it 
himself,  if  the  cowardly  skunk  has  the  guts,  or  he'll  get 
some  of  his  pals  to  do  it.  Either  slash  her  with  a  knife,  or 
throw  acid  in  her  face.  So  I  want  you,  when  you  go  home, 
to  tell  Mugsy  to  hunt  him  up.  He  can  find  him  and  tell 
him  that,  if  either  he  or  any  of  his  pals  lay  a  finger  on  Miss 
Montague,  or  if  she's  injured  in  the  near  future  by  any 
person,  no  matter  whether  he  is  to  blame  or  not,  all  the 
lawyers  on  earth  or  in  hell  won't  save  him,  and  that  we'll 


A  CONFERENCE  109 

see  he  even  can't  get  a  bondsman  capable  of  putting  up 
enough  security  for  all  the  charges  we'll  lay  against  him. 
Damn  him,  I'll  keep  him  in  jail  till  he  rots.  Now  you  know 
me ;  so  see  you  attend  promptly  to  this  matter.  Have  Mugsy 
hunt  him  up  as  soon  as  you  get  home,  as  the  fellow  who 
gave  me  the  information  tells  me  there  is  no  time  to  lose. 
I'll  expect  to  hear  from  you  tomorrow,  how  Mugsy  fulfilled 
his  mission,  and,  as  for  your  injured  feelings,  you'll  prob- 
ably have  a  rush  of  business  after  the  annual  ball  that  will 
more  than  compensate  you  for  your  losses ;  and  as  part  pay- 
ment for  Clementina's  share  of  the  loss  here's  a  twenty- 
dollar  bill  with  which  you  can  buy  yourself  something  on 
the  way  home." 

' '  But  how  can  I  meet  the  girls  ? ' ' 

*'Let  on  you  forgot  it,  or  pass  it  off  as  a  joke." 

Sadie  Blomgarten  left  the  private  office  of  Dent  &  Com- 
pany far  from  satisfied,  but  could  not  see  any  other  way  out 
of  the  difficulty.  She  did  some  shopping  for  herself,  it  being 
a  breach  of  contract  to  purchase  anything  for  any  of  the 
girls  except  in  the  prescribed  stores.  She  spent  the  after- 
noon visiting  different  establishments,  not  desiring  to  be 
home  until  supper  was  ready,  over  which  it  was  customary 
for  her  to  preside.  Arriving  home,  the  colored  man  at  the 
door  let  her  in. 

"  I  '11  want  to  see  you  later ! ' '  she  exclaimed.  ' '  Is  Mugsy 
in?" 

''Yes,  ma'am." 

' '  Tell  him  I  want  to  see  him  right  away  in  the  parlor. ' ' 

"Yes,  ma'am," 

On  Mugsy 's  arrival,  she  told  him  the  instructions  she 
had  received,  and  informed  him  to  go  right  away,  find  Rosen- 
thal, and  inform  him  what  to  expect  if  any  injury  was  done 
to  Miss  Montague,  by  either  himself  or  anyone  else,  whether 


110  A  CONFERENCE 

they  were  pals  or  not.  ''Tell  him  that  no  alibi  will  save  him. 
Now  go,  and  here's  a  five  spot  for  you.  Perhaps  you  may 
have  trouble  finding  him  this  early." 

"Won't  after  supper  do?" 

*'No,  go  at  once,  get  your  supper  outside." 

"  I  '11  find  him, ' '  replied  Mugsy,  * '  and  if  he  gives  me  any 
lip  I'll  forestall  the  bosses  by  kicking  the  stuffing  out  of 
him  in  advance." 

Madam  Blomgarten  then  put  off  her  fur  overcoat  and 
repaired  to  the  dining  room,  where  supper  was  waiting. 
The  bell  was  ringing,  and  the  girls  came  trooping  in  and 
took  their  regular  places.  Madam  Blomgarten,  seeing  that 
Clementina  was  absent,  inquired  as  to  her  absence. 

"She's  in  bed,"  answered  one  of  the  girls. 

"Has  she  been  attended  to?"  inquired  the  madam,  por- 
traying unwonted  interest. 

"Yes,  we  took  her  up  some  tea  and  toast,"  she  said. 
"She  was  only  tired  and  would  stay  in  bed  for  the  day." 

"Well,  if  she  is  sick,  I  want  the  doctor  brought  to  her 
right  away." 

This  unusual  interest  surprised  many  of  the  girls,  who 
wondered  at  her  change  of  heart  from  the  night  before 
when  she  would  have  liked  to  strangle  her. 

The  madam,  however,  in  spite  of  the  instructions  Dent 
had  given  her,  was  far  from  pleasant,  not  even  sociable. 

As  the  supper  proceeded,  she  noticed  some  of  the  elder 
women  had  on  a  look  of  stern  defiance,  while  the  younger 
ones  kept  whispering  to  one  another  something  which 
caused  an  occasional  titter.  One  girl  in  particular,  whose 
risibility  was  easily  aroused,  couldn't  keep  from  laughing. 

The  madam,  becoming  irritated,  said,  "I  suppose  you're 
laughing  at  me.  Miss  Angeline." 

"No,  ma'am.     Ophelia  was  telling  me  a  funny  story." 


A  CONFERENCE  111 

"I  know  she  was  probably  talking  about  me,  and  I 
want  this  foolishness  to  stop,  and  not  to  hear  another  word 
about  it,  there's  the  bell  ringing,  perhaps  one  of  yon  had 
better  go  into  the  parlor  and  see  who 's  wanted.  I  'm  going 
to  dress,  but  before  doing  so  I  want  to  say  one  word:  I 
think  some  of  you  girls  haven't  treated  me  as  I  deserve." 
With  that  she  left  the  room. 

That  night,  the  house  of  Blomgarten  was  crowded  as  it 
never  was  before ;  the  girls  seemed  to  rival  one  another  In 
their  efforts  to  bring  grist  to  Madam  Blomgarten 's  mill, 
she  being  kept  busy  introducing  strangers,  many  of  whom 
inquired  for  the  young  lady  who  had  displayed  such  energy 
at  the  First  Ward  Democratic  Ball ;  but  to  all  who  desired 
an  introduction  they  received  the  same  stereotyped  answer : 
' '  Miss  Montague  is  out  this  evening,  would  you  care  to  meet 
Miss ?    She's  a  charming  girl." 


112         BEST  FOR  THE  WEARY 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
REST  FOR  THE  WEARY 

On  the  morning  after  the  day  Madam  Blomgarten  had 
held  counsel  with  Mr.  Dent,  Martha  Hill,  (as  we  know  her), 
had  an  elaborate  breakfast  brought  to  her  bedside  by  the 
colored  maid,  who,  after  inquiring  how  she  felt,  received 
the  answer:  "I  am  tired  and  weary." 

"Madam  told  me  to  tell  you  that  if  you  don't  feel  well 
you  had  to  stay  in  bed,  and  that  she  would  see  that  no  one 
disturbed  you." 

This  solicitude  of  the  madam  in  her  behalf  was  some- 
what of  a  surprise,  as  she  expected  her  owner  to  pour  the 
vials  of  her  wrath  upon  her  at  the  earliest  opportunity. 

"I  suppose  the  madam  is  very  angry  at  me,"  address- 
ing the  colored  woman  who  lingered  in  the  room,  seemingly 
to  give  the  girl  in  the  bed  close  attention. 

"You  bet  she  was  at  first;  she  was  mad  at  everybody, 
especially  at  the  boarders  who  took  your  part." 

"Who  were  they?" 

"Why,  all  the  girls,  but  they  behaved  very  bad  to  me." 

"What  did  they  do  to  you?" 

"Ebery  thing,  Miss.  I  thought  they'd  murder  me," 
And  Dinah,  seeing  Martha  was  interested,  went  on  to  de- 
scribe what  took  place  from  the  time  Martha  Hill  retired 
on  the  morning  of  the  ball,  until  the  time  of  Madam  Blom- 
garten's  return  after  her  interview  with  Mr.  Dent,  in  the 
most  graphic  manner  of  which  she  was  capable.  The  recital 
made  Martha  Hill  smile,  despite  her  aching  head  and  heart. 


REST  FOR  THE  WEARY  113 

"I  suppose,  Dinah,  when  the  madam  came  down  the 
next  morning,  and  found  out  what  they  had  done,  she  was 
furious." 

' '  That 's  no  name  for  it,  Miss,  She  was  crazy ;  I  thought 
she  'd  take  a  fit !  Your  tea 's  getting  cold.  Miss ;  let  me  help 
you.    Come,  take  a  little  of  this  ham  and  eggs." 

"No,  Dinah,  I  am  too  sick." 

"This  tea  will  do  you  good.  Come  now.  Miss  Mon- 
tague, let  me  help  you,"  putting  the  cup  to  the  girl's  lips. 

"I  am  interested  in  your  story,  Dinah.  I  suppose  she 
abused  the  girls  frightfully,  when  she  saw  them?" 

"No,  she  didn't;  she  skipped  out  before  any  of  them 
was  up,  and  didn't  come  home  until  supper  time,  and  then 
she  was  as  nice  as  nip.  The  first  thing  she  done  was  to 
inquire  about  you,  and  said  she  hoped  you  had  been  attended 
to,  and  gave  me  orders  that,  if  you  were  ill,  our  doctor  had 
to  be  sent  for  at  once.  I  told  her  that  I  only  thought  you 
were  tired,  and  would  be  all  right  after  you  had  a  little 
rest." 

"Well,  see  that  she's  not  disturbed,"  she  said.  But  I 
must  be  going.     Can  I  bring  you  up  anything?" 

**No.  Tell  them  down  stairs  that  I  will  not  get  up  to- 
day, nor  see  any  one." 

During  the  morning.  Madam  Blomgarten  came  to  visit 
the  patient. 

"Well,  my  dear,  how  are  you  now?"  in  a  most  solicit- 
ous tone,  which  fairly  took  the  breath  away  from  the 
protege,  who  expected  at  least  a  coldness  from  her  mistress. 
There  was  not,  however,  a  particle  of  malice  in  her  voice. 

"I  am  sick  and  tired." 

"I  don't  wonder;  you  get  yourself  so  excited.  I  didn't 
think  it  was  in  you,  Clem." 

' '  I  had  good  cause,  had  I  not  ? ' ' 


114  REST  FOR  THE  WEARY 

"Now,  Miss  Montague,  you  can't  expect  me  to  go  into 
that  subject.  You  understand  my  business,  and  since  you 
came  here  I  have  tried  to  treat  you  as  well  as  I  could.  I 
have  only  introduced  you  to  friends  that  would  prove  valu- 
able to  you." 

"I  can  never  be  reconciled  to  such  friends,  and  I  did 
not  come  here  of  my  own  free  will.  I  was  brought  here  by 
that  vile  creature  I  only  saw  for  the  second  time,  the  night 
of  the  dance." 

"Well,  I  didn't  come  up  to  quarrel  with  you,  nor  am 
I  going  to ;  I  came  to  see  if  you  wanted  for  anything  or 
were  you  going  to  get  up  this  evening  to  meet  your  friends. 
Many  have  inquired  for  you." 

"No,  I  am  too  sick  to  get  up,  and  don't  want  to  see 
any  one.    I  want  to  be  let  alone." 

"Suppose  Mr.  Dent  calls;  what  am  I  going  to  say  to 
him?" 

"Tell  him  I  have  left,"  turning  her  face  from  the 
madam,  who  bit  her  lip  to  hide  her  chagrin. 

"Oh,  I  can't  do  that;  you  wouldn't  want  me  to  lie." 

The  girl  turned  in  the  bed  and  gazed  aghast  at  her 
mistress,  who  professed  such  scruples  about  telling  an  un- 
truth. 

"I  see,  my  dear,"  addressing  her  slave  in  the  most 
patronizing  manner.  "You  want  a  rest.  Should  you  want 
for  anything,  or  change  your  mind  about  seeing  any  of  your 
friends,  just  ring  your  bell,  and  I  will  see  that  your  wishes 
are  complied  with." 

"I  want  only  to  be  let  alone." 

"Have  your  own  way  then,  I'll  see  you'll  not  be  dis- 
turbed." After  which  she  took  her  departure  in  a  mood 
widely  different  from  the  one  she  had  to  dissemble. 


REST  FOR  THE  WEARY  115 

Martha  Hill  could  not  understand  or  account  for  the 
mildness  of  her  mistress'  manner,  after  the  violence  of  her 
attack  upon  her  the  night  before.  She  wondered  what  had 
brought  about  the  change. 

Along  in  the  afternoon  Mugsy  peered  in  at  the  door. 
*'May  I  come  in?"  he  inquired. 

''Yes." 

"I  hope  you  are  not  very  sick,  Miss?"  smiling  at  her. 

*  *  Not  so  sick  as  weary.  I  feel  grateful  to  you,  however, 
Mugsy,  for  the  way  you  came  to  my  defense,  when  the 
young  man  wanted  the  crowd  to  pull  me  out  of  the  box." 

"Don't  mention  it,  Miss.  I'd  do  more  than  that  for 
you.    Your  friend  is  my  friend." 

"Who  is  that?  What  friend  have  I  that's  your  friend?" 
she  inquired  earnestly. 

"Mr.  Dent.  He's  stuck  on  you,  Clem,  and  he's  one  of 
the  big  fellows.  What  he  says  goes,  and  as  long  as  you 
keep  him  on  your  list  you  needn't  care  for  any  one." 

"What  do  you  mean?  How  is  Mr.  Dent  so  influential?" 
displaying  great  interest. 

"You  know,  Miss,  I'm  not  supposed  to  tell  tales  out  of 
school,  or  even  recognize  any  of  the  swells  that  come  here, 
but  I'm  on  to  a  lot  of  them.  I  don't  mind  putting  you  on, 
as  I  know  you  wouldn't  give  me  away;  in  fact.  Miss  Mon- 
tague, I  feel  somewhat  friendly  to  you,  and  I'm  sorry  I 
spoke  so  harsh  to  you  when  Sheeney  Ike  first  brought  you 
here.  But  it's  part  of  the  work  I'm  expected  to  do,  and 
what  I'm  paid  for.  I  know  you're  different  from  the  rest 
of  the  Judys  we  have  here,  and  I  know  you're  not  happy. 
You  still  have  more  friends  than  any  two  of  them." 

"Such  friends!  don't  mention  them.  They  all  come 
for  a  purpose.    We  girls  all  look  alike  to  them." 


116  REST  FOR  THE  WEARY 

"You  can't  say  that  of  Mr.  Dent.  He  is  the  real  goods. 
Do  you  know  he's  been  helping  you  out  of  the  trouble  you 
got  yourself  in  the  night  of  the  dance?" 

"How  so?"  raising  herself  on  her  elbow  on  the  bed, 
and  looking  intently  at  her  informant. 

"I'll  tell  you,  but  mind  it's  in  strict  confidence.  Dent 
wouldn't  like  it,  and  the  madam,  if  she  thought  you  knew 
too  much,  would  want  to  know  where  you  got  your  infor- 
mation, and  she'd  guess  I  was  the  only  one  could  tell  you, 
so  she'd  probably  can  me." 

"You  can  rely  on  me,  Mugsy." 

' '  It  was  this  way :  After  Sheeney  Ike  and  his  pals  left 
the  hall,  they  Avent  to  the  saloon  where  they  hang  out. 
Ike's  pals  looked  upon  him  as  a  much-abused  man.  Ike 
himself  felt  he'd  been  degraded  in  such  high-class  company, 
especially  as  some  of  the  girls  who  contribute  to  his  board 
bill  saw  you  douse  him.  Well,  to  make  a  long  story  short, 
after  the  drinks  were  served,  Ike's  pals  waited  to  hear 
what  he  had  to  say.  You  know  Ike's  a  leader  among  them, 
so  he  swore  he'd  have  your  life.  But  after  a  few  more 
drinks,  and  on  the  advice  of  his  pals,  he  decided  there  was 
too  much  risk  in  killing  you.  He  finally  came  to  the  con- 
elusion  he  would  disfigure  you  for  life.  He  boasted  he'd 
make  you  hate  yourself,  when  you  looked  in  a  glass." 

"What  did  he  mean  by  that?"  the  girl  turning  pale 
with  apprehension. 

"Why,  slash  you  with  a  knife,  or  throw  acid  in  your 
face." 

"My  God!  would  he  do  that?"  falling  back  in  the  bed 
in  terror  of  her  impending  danger. 

"They'd  do  anything,  that  gang.  I'm  bad  enough,  the 
Lord  knows,  but  I'm  a  saint  in  comparison  to  them  white 
slavers." 


REST  FOR  THE  WEARY  117 

"Tell  me,  Mugsy,  what  have  I  to  do  to  protect  myself?" 
her  breath  coming  short  in  her  excitement. 

*'No  danger,  Miss.  Your  friend  Dent  attended  to 
them." 

**What  control  can  he  have  over  such  ruffians?" 

*'If  any  of  them  even  looks  crooked  at  you,  he'll  fix 
them  for  all  time." 

"Tell  me,  how  can  he  do  that?    I  am  anxious  to  know." 

"Well,  mum's  the  word,  if  I  tell  you." 

"Yes,  sure." 

"You  have  heard  of  the  men  higher  up,  havn't  you?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  he's  one  of  the  highest  up,  near  the  top,  and, 
getting  the  tip  of  what  Ike  said  he'd  do  to  you  from  one 
of  the  push,  he  had  the  madam  send  me  out  to  find  Ike,  and 
notify  him  that  if  either  he  or  any  of  his  band  of  white 
slavers,  confidence  men,  or  blackmailers,  laid  a  finger  on 
you,  or  if  even  anything  happened  to  you  in  the  near  future, 
whether  they  were  to  blame  or  not,  he'd  have  the  whole 
crowd  sent  over  the  road.  And  as  for  Rosenthal,  he'd  keep 
him  in  jail  until  he'd  rot;  in  fact,  he'd  have  the  state's 
attorney  file  so  many  charges  against  them,  that  it  would 
take  the  First  National  Bank  to  furnish  enough  bonds  to 
get  them  out.  Even  then  he  would  see  to  their  conviction. 
So  I  set  out  and  found  Ike,  and  delivered  my  message.  At 
first  he  was  a  little  stiff,  so  I  took  him  by  the  neck,  and  I 
said,  'You  dirty  little  descendant  from  Judas  Iscariot,  they'll 
have  to  be  first  to  get  you.  If  I  get  you  first,  I'll  kick  the 
entrails  out  of  you.  I'll  make  you  so  that  they'll  have  to 
take  your  remains  away  in  a  bag.  As  it  is,  I  have  a  notion 
to  begin  on  you  now.'  He  tried  to  get  away  from  me,  but 
I  held  him  until  the  skunk  told  me  it  was  all  off.  'Well,  go 
tell  your  pals  so,  and  if  you  don't  I'll  see  you  again.'    So 


118  REST  FOR  THE  WEARY 

you  need  have  no  fear,  Miss,  I'll  make  him  eat  out  of  your 
hand,  if  you  want  me." 

Martha  Hill  could  not  help  but  smile  in  the  face  of  so 
doughty  a  champion. 

"I  must  be  off.  There's  the  missus  shouting,"  extend- 
ing his  hand  to  the  girl  in  bed,  who  gratefully  grasped  it. 

''Take  a  good  rest,  and  count  on  me  as  your  friend 
from  this  out,"  were  his  parting  words. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  Mr.  Dent  called.  He  inquired 
of  the  colored  man  if  Mugsy  was  in. 

' '  Yes,  sir.    I  '11  find  him  for  you. ' ' 

On  Mugsy 's  arrival.  Dent's  impatient  inquiry  was: 
"Did  Sadie  send  you  out  on  a  mission  for  me?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Did  you  find  the  party  I  wanted  you  to?" 

"Yes,  sir,  and  I  put  the  fear  of  God  in  his  heart." 

"Mugsy,  that  fellow  has  little  fear  of  God,  it's  fear  of 
jail  he  dreads." 

"Well,  sir,  when  I  got  through  with  him  he  imagined 
he  could  hear  the  gates  closing  behind  him,  and  more  I  told 
him,  that  if  either  he  or  any  of  his  gang  molested  Miss 
Montague  they'd  be  lucky  if  they  reached  jail,  as  it  would 
be  most  likely  coffins  they'd  want." 

Mugsy  gave  a  highly  colored  description  of  his  inter- 
view with  Rosenthal,  which  made  Dent  laugh. 

"Good  boy,  Mugsy,"  he  said.  "If  ever  you  want  a 
friend  count  on  me,  and  here's  a  little  token  of  my  appre- 
ciation," placing  a  ten-dollar  bill  in  his  hand. 

"Thank  you,  sir." 

"Anything  further  in  reference  to  the  matter  we've 
been  talking  about,  come  and  let  me  know.  Where's  Clem 
now  ? ' ' 

"She's  up  in  bed,  sir.    She's  sick." 


REST  FOR  THE  WEARY  119 

Dent  shook  hands  with  Mugsy,  went  straight  up  the 
stairs,  and  entered  Martha  Hill's  bedroom  without  being 
announced. 

The  girl  was  sound  asleep.  Dent  gazed  on  her.  He 
saw  a  smile  illume  on  her  face.  He  guessed  she  was  having  a 
pleasant  dream,  probably  of  happier  days,  ere  she  left  her 
virtuous  home  and  faithful  friends  to  seek  employment  in 
this  city,  where  justice  is  not  only  blind  but  paralyzed  by 
the  influence  of  vicious  politicians  and  their  accommodating 
judges. 

For  a  moment  Dent 's  conscience  stung  him.  He  thought 
of  his  own  two  daughters  at  home  when  his  better  nature 
came  in  conflict  with  the  polygamous  instinct.  He  thought 
to  himself  she  is  a  beautiful  toy,  something  to  amuse  and 
entertain.  His  soliloquy  was  brought  to  a  close  by  Martha 
Hill  opening  her  eyes  and  gazing  into  his  face.  "Clem,  old 
girl,  I  hear  you  're  under  the  weather. ' ' 

"Yes,  Mr.  Dent,  I  am  more  weary  than  sick." 

"I  am  sorry  to  hear  that,"  sitting  on  the  bed  beside  her. 
"It  would  seem  as  if  this  life  was  too  strenuous  for  you." 

"I  am  sick  of  this  calling." 

"And  of  me,  I  suppose." 

"Yes,  under  the  circumstances,  though  I  must  admit 
you  have  been  a  good  friend  to  me,  as  such  friends  go." 

"Come  now,  don't  get  despondent." 

"How  can  I  help  it?" 

"Cheer  up  I  just  dropped  in  to  see  how  you  were  after 
the  fracas  the  other  night,  and  to  tell  you  to  never  heed  any 
threats  that  that  dirty  little  Jew  may  make  aginst  you, 
and  if  there  is  anything  you  want  to  let  me  know,  or  if  you 
have  any  trouble  with  the  madam,  you  tell  Mugsy,  you  can 
rely  upon  him,  and  he'll  let  me  know.  Come,  now,  don't 
be  disheartened." 


120  REST  FOR  THE  WEARY 

Martha  Hill  began  to  cry. 

Dent  continued.  "Come  now,  Miss  Montague,  bad  as 
I  am,  I  can't  stand  a  woman's  tears.  So  I  must  be  going. 
I'll  be  in  again  in  a  few  days,  when  I  hope  to  find  you  more 
cheerful.  Good  bye!"  He  took  her  in  his,  arms  and  kissed 
her. 


THE  INEVITABLE  121 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  INEVITABLE 

Clem  Montague  stays  in  her  room  for  three  consecutive 
days,  during  which  time  she  hears  much  interesting  infor- 
mation, and  gets  assiduous  attention;  dainty  meals  being 
brought  up  to  her  bedside.  She  receives  many  calls  from 
her  sisters  in  misfortune. 

The  big  blonde  brought  a  smile  to  her  face  on  her  first 
visit,  when  she  gave  her  version  of  how  they  had  put  it 
over  "the  old  cat  "  by  which  uncomplimentary  title  she 
designated  her  mistress. 

Madam  Blomgarten  was  remarkably  solicitous  in  her 
inquiry  as  to  how  Clem  felt;  her  principal  motive  being  to 
find  out  when  the  young  lady  would  be  ready  to  attend  to 
business.  The  madam,  being  of  the  earth  earthy,  felt  she 
was  suffering  some  pecuniary  loss  by  the  indisposition  of 
her  most  profitable  assistant  in  her  well  regulated  resort — 
as  a  very  distinguished  public  official  living  in  those  days 
desired  it  should  be,  his  plea  being  "you  cannot  suppress 
the  social  evil,  but  you  can  regulate  it,"  and  he  kept  on 
with  the  aid  of  kindred  politicians  regulating  it,  till  the 
Great  Regulator  of  all  relegated  him. 

On  the  fourth  day.  Miss  Montague,  wearying  of  the  bed, 
arose  and  dressed.  The  madam  happened  to  meet  her  on 
the  landing.  She  was  lavish  in  her  professions  of  solicitude 
as  to  her  physical  condition. 

"I  hope  you  feel  better,  Clem?"  in  a  tone  in  which  a 


122  THE  INEVITABLE 

mother  might  be  likely  to  address  a  sick  daughter.  "Now, 
girlie,  I  want  you  to  be  more  careful  and  don't  get  yourself 
so  excited.    You  look  a  little  pale  to  me." 

"I  feel  all  right,"  was  Martha's  reply  to  her  many 
queries,  and  she  moved  on  to  the  back  parlor,  where  some  of 
the  girls  were  lounging,  all  of  whom  gave  her  a  hearty  and 
sincere  welcome  to  their  midst. 

Mugsy,  on  meeting  her,  put  on  the  blandest  smile  his 
coarse  countenance  would  permit,  in  his  inquiry  as  to  her 
condition.  His  interest  in  her  was  due  to  the  fact  that  she 
was  the  chosen  houri  of  the  Boss,  and,  since  receiving  the 
commission  to  hunt  up  Rosenthal  and  lay  down  the  law  to 
him,  he  felt  it  part  of  his  duty  to  assume  the  position  of 
protector  to  her ;  not  that  she  needed  any  special  protection, 
but,  knowing  her  influence  over  Mr.  Dent,  it  might  prove 
worth  something  to  him.  He  was  anxious  for  every  oppor- 
tunity to  show  his  prowess  and  devotion  in  her  behalf.  His 
zeal  on  one  occasion  nearly  got  him  into  serious  trouble. 
A  wealthy  young  rowdy,  a  son  of  one  of  our  first  families, 
was  insolently  paying  his  advances  to  her  and  using  lan- 
guage not  to  be  tolerated  in  a  well  regulated  brothel. 
Mugsy  came  into  the  parlor  in  conformity  with  his  duty  as 
bouncer,  and  mildly  remonstrated  with  him,  knowing  him 
as  he  did,  and  his  standing  in  society.  He  refused  to  leave 
the  parlor  or  cease  his  annoyance  of  Miss  Montague.  So 
the  only  resort  left  was  to  put  him  out.  The  young  gentle- 
man resisting  with  all  his  might,  Mugsy  had  to  use  force, 
so  he  dragged  the  obstreperous  one  toward  the  rear  entrance 
— the  route  by  which  all  ejectments  took  place.  On  reaching 
the  alley  the  young  hopeful  became  combative,  and  he  was 
found  by  the  watchman  next  morning  lying  in  the  rear  of 
the  Bloragarten  house,  badly  disfigured  and  unconscious. 
When  the  ambulance  came  to  take  him  away,  the  police 


THE  INEVITABLE  123 

were  in  doubt  as  to  whether  they  should  take  him  to  the 
hospital  or  to  the  morgue. 

An  investigation  followed,  which  caused  madam  Blom- 
garten  some  annoyance,  who  in  turn  censured  Miss  Mon- 
tague, as  if  she  was  to  blame. 

She  even  had  the  idea  of  getting  rid  of  Mugsy,  or  offer- 
ing  him  up  as  a  sacrifice. 

Mugsy  Jiad  recourse  to  his  friend  Mr.  Dent,  who,  on 
hearing  his  story  and  some  corroborative  testimony  from 
his  favorite  courtesan,  promptly  interviewed  the  madam  in 
reference  to  the  matter,  telling  her,  at  the  conclusion  of  the 
interview,  to  shut  up;  which  she  did  effectively,  at  the  same 
time  adding,  ''I  will  have  my  attorney  watch  the  matter. 

The  parents  of  the  boy,  fearing  a  scandal,  and  hoping 
it  would  be  a  warning  to  him,  dropped  the  matter  entirely. 
Whenever  Mr.  Dent  came  to  pay  his  favorite  a  visit, 
should  he  happen  to  meet  Mugsy,  who,  as  a  rule,  was  found 
on  the  first  floor,  and  frequently  near  the  entrance,  his  first 
inquiry  would  be  :  ^^ 

^' How's  Clem,  is  she  in?"     If  the  answer  was     Yes, 
he  would  follow  with  "Is  she  engaged?     If  not,  tell  her  I 
want  to  see  her."    And  after  giving  Mugsy  a  tip,  which  he 
invariably  did,  he  made  his  way  to  Clementina's  room  to 
await  her  arrival. 

Mugsy  went  in  search  of  her,  and,  on  finding  her,  whis- 
pered, "The  Boss  is  upstairs;  he  wants  to  see  you." 

On  one  occasion,  before  leaving,  Dent  inquired  of  Mugsy 
if  he  had  heard  anything  of  the  Ike  Rosenthal  gang,  and  if 
he  thought  they  still  had  it  in  for  Clem. 

"Nothing  doing,  sir.  I  have  met  some  of  them,  and 
tried  to  sound  them,  but  I  could  not  get  them  to  refer  to 
the  matter.    I  some  time  feel  as  if  I  wish  they  would.    If 


124  THE  INEVITABLE 

they  do,  and  its  a  knock,  I  '11  make  the  bunch  eat  out  of  her 
hand." 

Dent  smiled  on  Mugsy,  and  said,  "Keep  a  lookout  any- 
how, and,  if  there's  any  trouble,  you  know  you  can  rely 
upon  me." 

"Thank  you,  sir." 

**  Clementina  Montague  was  by  far  the  most  attractive 
girl  in  Madam  Blomgarten's  establishment.  Young  and 
ladylike,  of  a  retiring  disposition,  she  was  held  in  high 
esteem  by  the  wealthy  young  profligates  who  patronized  the 
institution  in  which  she  was  a  reluctant  victim.  Her  popu- 
larity had  its  penalties.  Outraged  nature  began  to  drive 
the  bloom  from  her  cheeks,  which  Madam  Blomgarten  per- 
sisted in  her  restoring  by  an  increased  use  of  rouge.  So 
that,  ere  two  years  had  passed  in  Madam  Blomgarten's,  she 
was  like  a  faded  flower,  and  the  madam  began  to  weigh  the 
time  when  she  would  be  more  of  an  incumbrance  than  an 
asset.  Dent,  however,  long  past  the  middle  age,  when  the 
blood  begins  to  run  cold,  still  admired  her,  and  was  her 
steady  patron  and  supporter.  This  secured  for  .her  the 
fealty  of  Mugsy,  who  guarded  her  as  carefully  as  would  a 
watch-dog. 

In  the  early  stages  of  her  career,  Madam  Blomgarten 
tried  to  reserve  her  for  Jier  wealthy  patrons.  Should  what 
the  madam  designated  a  "piker"  try  to  make  advances  to 
her,  if  she  caught  Clem's  eye,  she  frowned  and  shook  her 
head.  If  the  man  proved  persistent  and  Clem  could  not  con- 
veniently refuse  him,  the  madam  would  send  for  her,  as 
if  she  was  already  engaged.  When  she  arrived,  the  madam 
would  say,  "Pass  him  up,  he's  no  good." 

At  the  present  stage  of  her  existence,  that  we  are  now 
chronicling,  Madam  Blomgarten  expected  her  to  hustle  for 


THE  INEVITABLE  125 

patronage,  as  she  had  younger  and  fresher  recruits  to  look 
after  who  required  her  fostering  care. 

During  her  two  years  in  the  bagnio,  she  was  seldom  on 
the  street,  the  dread  of  being  recognized  by  some  one  who 
knew  her,  her  parents  or  friends,  keeping  her  indoors. 
The  confinement  also  told  upon  her  once  vigorous  constitu- 
tion, as  did  the  longing  for  news  from  home  of  how  the 
loved  ones  were  getting  on.  She  wondered  if  Matt  Howard 
was  married.  She  hoped  he  was,  and  happy.  Many  were 
the  tears  she  shed,  the  sighs  she  gave  in  the  seclusion  of  her 
room,  when  she  was  alone.  "But  it  is  all  over,"  she  would 
say  to  herself.    * '  My  only  hope  is  they  may  think  me  dead ! ' ' 

And,  dear  reader,  how  many  thousands  of  girls,  led  by 
the  deceit  of  men  or  the  cunning  of  monsters,  who,  having 
been  brought  to  a  life  of  shame,  have  not  been  tortured  with 
similar  thoughts !     Martha  Hill  was  no  exception. 

Martha  Hill  had  been  three  years  in  the  service  of  the 
Blomgarten  woman,  when  she  was  stricken  with  a  disease 
peculiar  to  such  institutions,  and  the  inevitable  fate  of  all 
who  persist  in  a  life  of  shame.  The  girl  herself  was  ignor- 
ant of  the  fact,  or  the  consequences  thereof,  until  she  had 
brought  misery  to  others. 

Dinah,  the  colored  woman,  suspicious  of  the  cause  of 
Miss  Montague's  indisposition,  learned  the  facts,  and  made 
the  announcement  to  her  mistress,  who  nearly  foamed  at 
the  mouth  when  she  heard  the  news. 

"My  God!"  she  exclaimed.  "What  trouble  that  girl 
has  given  me!    "When  was  Mr.  Dent  here?" 

"Three  or  four  nights  ago." 

"Oh,  dear  me !  Oh,  dear  me !  "What  will  become  of  us? 
I  must  get  rid  of  her  right  away.  Reaching  for  the  tele- 
phone, and  getting  Central,  she  asked  for  a  number;  after 
a  lapse  of  a  few  seconds  she  got  a  response. 


126  THE  INEVITABLE 

"Is  that  you ?"    The  answer  seemed  satisfactory. 

''There  is  one  of  my  girls  gone  wrong,  I  want  you  to 
have  her  removed  right  away."  *  *  *  *  <'To  the  hospital, 
to  be  sure.  Yes !  Yes !  Call  me  up  as  soon  as  you  have  made 
arrangements. ' ' 

She  hung  up  the  receiver,  and  began  to  review  all  the 
troubles  she  had  since  Martha  Hill  was  betrayed,  drugged, 
and  enslaved,  in  her  house  of  hell;  overlooking  both  the 
profit  and  prestige  she  had  brought  to  the  establishment. 

The  telephone  rang.  She  placed  the  receiver  to  her  ear. 
"Yes,  this  is  Sadie.    All  right.     Thanks.     Good-bye." 

"Dinah,  you  tell  her  to  get  dressed  and  ready  to  go. 
Good  riddance!    And  tell  Mugsy  to  get  a  cab." 

The  colored  woman  went  to  Miss  Montague's  room  and 
informed  her  of  her  mistress'  wishes. 

"Where  are  they  going  to  send  me?" 

"To  the  hospital." 

"Do  you  think  I'm  very  bad,  Dinah?" 

"Yes,  I  think  you  are,  Miss." 

Martha  burst  into  tears. 

"Dere's  no  use  you  crying,  Miss.  I'm  very  sorry  for 
you,  but  it's  best  you  go." 

The  girl  dressed  and  descended  to  the  back  parlor, 
where  the  madam  was  awaiting  her.  She  was  met  with  a 
frown.  No  semblance  of  pity  or  compassion  was  to  be  seen 
on  the  face  of  the  worse  than  harlot. 

"I  understand  you  are  very  ill?" 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

"You  should  have  exercised  more  care." 

"Martha  Hill,  with  her  head  bowed  down,  paid  no  at- 
tention to  her  censure. 

"I  am  going  to  get  you  into  the  hospital — a  bill  of  ex- 
pense to  me,  I  suppose,"  as  she  looked  sternly  at  her  slave. 


THE  INEVITABLE  127 

"Mugsy  will  be  here  in  a  few  minutes  with  a  cab  for 
you.    I  see  you  are  ready  to  go," 

The  girl  had  no  reply  to  make.  Broken  in  spirit,  the 
victim  of  a  loathsome  disease,  she  had  no  recourse,  but  to 
bow  to  her  owner's  sovereign  will. 


128  THE  INVALID 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  INVALID 

Clementina  Montague  was  but  two  weeks  in  the  hos- 
pital, when  a  fellow  patient  loaned  her  a  newspaper.  In 
scanning  it  over  she  noticed  an  item  under  the  caption: 

"  A  SCANDAL  IN  HIGH  SOCIETY." 

It  read  as  follows  : 

There  was  a  fracas  yesterday  evening  in  the  Unity 
Club,  which  startled  the  members  of  that  eminently  respect- 
able and  exclusive  organization.  The  facts  are,  as  far  as 
our  reporter  could  learn: 

A  young  member,  a  scion  of  one  of  our  best  families, 
vigorously  laid  his  cane  over  the  head  and  shoulders  of 
another  member  much  his  senior  in  years,  and  would  have, 
no  doubt,  done  him  serious  injury,  if  it  were  not  for  the 
prompt  interference  of  other  members  of  the  club  who  were 
in  close  proximity  to  the  combatants  at  the  time.  The  par- 
ties to  the  fray  immediately  left  the  building,  on  being 
separated.  Our  correspondent,  learning  the  names  of  the 
two  parties  to  the  dispute,  visited  the  home  of  the  younger 
one  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  his  version  of  the  affair, 
but  was  informed  that  the  party  he  sought  had  no  informa- 
tion to  give  out.     On  visiting  the  palatial  residence  of  the 

elder  gentleman,  he  was  informed  that  Mr.  D was  not 

at  home,  and  it  did  not  seem  as  if  the  butler,  who  answered 
the  door,  knew  anything  whatsoever  of  the  affair.  The 
mystery  attached  to  the  matter  is,  firstly,  that  the  two  com- 


THE  INVALID  129 

batants  are  closely  connected  by  marriage,  and,  secondly, 
that  it  was  very  apparent  that  the  elder  man  had  given 
no  provocation,  at  least,  on  the  night  of  the  fray,  that  would 
warrant  such  an  attack.  So  that  our  expectant  readers, 
who  gloat  over  such  choice  morsels  of  gossip,  will  have  to 
await  further  developments  which,  it  is  presumed,  will  be 
of  a  sensational  character. 

Miss  Montague's  intuitive  mind  seemed  to  grasp  the 
situation.  She  knew  that  her  friend,  Dent,  was  a  member 
of  that  very  exclusive  organization,  and  the  news  item  which 

gave  the  letter  D with  a  stroke  to  partly  obliterate  the 

identity  of  one  of  the  parties,  confirmed  her  in  the  belief 
that  it  was  no  less  a  personage  than  her  old  patron.  Each 
day  after,  when  she  could  get  a  paper,  she  searched  the 
columns  diligently  to  see  if  there  was  any  further  reference 
to  the  affair,  but  could  not  see  any,  so  she  believed  it  had 
been  but  a  misunderstanding  which  had  amicably  been 
settled,  or  probably  she  had  been  mistaken  in  her  surmise 
and  that  her  friend  Dent  was  in  no  way  implicated. 

It  was  a  consoling  thought  to  her  after  all.  As  such 
friends  go,  Dent  was  the  most  loyal  and  considerate  of  all 
her  numerous  male  acquaintances. 

She  was  pleased,  one  day,  to  have  a  visit  from  the  big 
blonde,  who  was  the  only  one  of  her  sisters  in  misfortune 
who  seemed  to  have  either  time  or  inclination  to  visit  her. 

"I  am  so  glad  to  see  you,  Verona.  It  is  so  kind  of 
you  to  call  on  me,"  was  Clem's  greeting  before  the  blonde 
had  time  to  place  on  the  table  at  her  bedside  the  fruit  and 
flowers  she  had  brought  with  her. 

"Well,  Clem,  how  have  you  been  getting  on  since  I 
saw  you  last?" 

"I  have  been  very  sick,  and  in  great  pain.  What's  the 
news  from  the  house?" 


130  THE  INVALID 

"There's  been  h to  pay.     Old  Dent  has  got  into 

trouble  with  his  wife's  family.  Her  brother  slugged  him 
one  evening  at  the  club  they  both  are  members  of.  He 
hasn't  been  near  the  house  since  you  left.  But  some  people 
have  been  making  inquiries  about  him.  The  madam  said 
she  didn  't  know  him  at  all.  They  laughed  at  her,  and  asked 
her  if  she  knew  a  young  lady  by  the  name  of  Clementina 
Montague.  Then  the  madam  got  on  her  ear,  and  told  them 
to  get  out;  she  had  no  information  for  them.  On  leaving, 
one  of  them  remarked,  laughingly,  "You  may  have,  later." 

"What  is  it  all  about?"  inquired  Miss  Montague,  rais- 
ing herself  on  her  elbow  in  the  bed. 

"Don't  you  know,  you  innocent?" 

"No!" 

The  blonde  smiled.    "You  know  when  you  took  sick?" 

"Yes." 

"Didn't  Dent  visit  you,  a  few  days  before  it  devel- 
oped?" 

"Yes." 

"Then,  that's  all  there's  to  it." 

The  light  dawned  upon  the  sick  woman,  who  lay  baelc 
in  bed,  covering  her  head  with  the  sheet  to  hide  her  eon- 
fusion. 

The  big  blonde,  who,  it  seemed,  had  a  big  heart,  tried 
to  console  her, 

"Cheer  up,"  she  said.  "Whatever  harm  has  been  done 
has  been  done,  and  can't  be  helped  now,  so  there's  no  use 
of  you  fretting  over  it." 

"Yes,  but  think  of  the  misery  I  have  been  the  cause  of 
to  others.    I  wish  I  had  died  first." 

"The  unintentional  cause,  girl;  the  ever  dreaded  risk 
of  our  calling!  Few  there  are  who  escape,  in  spite  of  all 
our  caution,  and  men  who  consort  with  us  must  take  their 


THE  INVALID  131 

chances.  You,  however,  have  been  particularly  unfortunate 
in  having  contracted  one  of  the  most  serious  maladies  known 
to  medical  science." 

"Do  you  think  I'll  get  better,  Verona?" 

"I  hope  you  will,  but,  in  the  meantime,  content  your- 
self, and  don't  do  any  fretting  over  Dent.  He  has  made 
thousands  of  dollars  out  of  us  girls,  and  he's  in  a  position 
to  take  care  of  himself.  And,  if  he  isn't,  you  can't  help  him. 
But  I  must  be  going.  I  see  the  nurse  is  looking  impatiently 
at  me,  so  good-bye.  I  will  call  to  see  you  again  in  a  few 
days." 

Clementina  Montague  lay  back  in  her  bed,  gazing  into 
space.  Her  whole  past  career  seemed  to  rise  vividly  before 
her :  her  happy  virtuous  home,  her  departure,  the  fatal  meet- 
ing, the  attic.  She  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  the  brutal 
treatment  she  had  received  while  there,  her  initiation  into 
the  society  of  the  courtesans,  her  introduction  to  Dent,  with 
its  ultimate  disastrous  results,  the  blank  future  before  her 
— it  all  seemed  spread  before  her  as  in  a  panorama.  At 
length  nature's  great  restorer  came  to  her  relief — sleep, 
oblivion — but  no !  she  dreamed,  as  she  had  often  done  be- 
fore, of  the  loved  ones  at  home,  until  rudely  awakened  by 
the  nurse,  who  aroused  her  so  that  the  interne  might  make 
his  daily  examination  as  to  her  condition.  When  he  was 
through,  he  looked  significantly  at  the  nurse.  "You  will 
have  to  give  her  a  little  stimulant,"  he  said,  as  he  left,  "she 
don't  seem  to  improve." 

"Weak  as  she  was,  she  was  eager  to  scan  the  papers. 
She  was  anxious  to  learn  if  there  was  any  news  in  refer- 
ence to  the  Dent  case,  and  it  helped  to  pass  the  time.  The 
nurse  on  her  rounds  one  day  observed  her  reading  the  paper. 
She  took  it  out  of  her  hand.  "I  cannot  let  you  read,  Miss; 
vou  want  rest." 


132  THE  INVALID 

"But  I  am  interested  in  something  I  thought  I  might 
see  in  the  papers." 

''That  may  be  so,  but  the  only  thing  we  are  interested 
in  is  your  recovery.  We  also  object  to  you  having  any 
visitors,  as  we  notice,  after  they  have  left,  your  fever  has 
increased." 

"I  have  not  many  who  come  to  see  me." 

"Have  you  no  relations?  Of  course,  we  would  not  re- 
fuse them,  but  in  this  ward,  in  particular,  we  do  not  encour- 
age any  to  come  who  are  not  intimately  connected,  or 
specially  interested  in  the  patient." 

"I  have  no  relatives,  and  now  it  seems  there  are  but 
few  who  care  to  come  to  see  me." 

"There  is  that  big  woman  who  comes,  she  seems  inter- 
ested in  you,  we  tried  to  deter  her  from  coming,  as  we 
noticed  after  her  visits  you  seem  to  be  more  despondent 
and  your  fever  increases,  but  she  has  a  special  permit.  "We 
must,  however,  discourage  any  lengthy  stay  on  her  part." 

"It  is  very  kind  of  you,  nurse.  I  know  what  you  are 
saying  is  best  for  me ;  but,  as  she  seems  to  be  about  the  only 
friend  I  have  left,  don't  stop  her  from  coming  to  see  me." 

"No,  we  won't;  but  you  tell  her  yourself  not  to  stay 
too  long."  A  hard  thing  for  the  poor,  sick  girl  to  do,  who 
looked  anxiously  forward  to  her  visits. 

On  the  next  occasion  of  Verona's  visit  to  the  hospital, 
ere  she  could  deposit  some  cake  and  fruit  she  had  brought 
with  her,  she  exclaimed,  "I  have  lots  of  news  for  you, 
Clem;  but,  if  you  don't  promise  you  won't  get  excited,  I 
won't  tell  you  a  thing." 

Miss  Montague  raised  herself  on  her  elbow  on  the  bed, 
and,  while  a  sickly  smile  illumed  her  face,  pointing  to  a 
chair,  said,  "Sit  down,  Verona,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you, 
and  it's  so  kind  of  you  to  bring  me  all  the  nice  things  you 


THE  INVALID  133 

do.  I  am  afraid  I  will  never  be  able  to  repay  you  for  your 
kindness." 

''Don't  mention  it,  girl,  but  do  you  know,  Clem,  they 
tried  to  prevent  me  from  coming  to  see  you?" 

''So  I  understand.  They  don't  encourage  visitors  in 
this  ward,  as  many  of  the  women  in  here  are  in  such  bad 
shape.  I  haven't  been  able  to  get  around  much,  but  I  am 
told  some  of  them  are  much  disfigured,  and  people  are  apt 
to  gaze  on  them  as  they  pass  their  cots." 

"Well,  I  suppose  that's  right,  but  I  have  a  permit." 

"How  did  you  get  it,  Verona?  You  must  have  a 
*puir,"  smiling. 

"It  was  this  way:  I  have  a  friend  on  the  County  Board, 
he's  a  brick,  a  first-class  fellow,  and,  on  one  of  his  visits  to 
the  house,  I  had  him  in  my  room,  and  told  him  I  had  a  sick 
friend  in  the  hospital,  and  that  they  did  not  want  to  let 
me  in  to  see  her." 

"I'll  see  about  that,"  he  says.  "And  the  very  next  day 
I  had  a  pass  by  mail.    That's  going  some,  isn't  it,  Clem?" 

"Yes,  I  am  sure  I  am  thankful  to  him  also,  as,  if  they 
wouldn't  let  you  in,  I  might  as  well  be  in  the  grave  v/here 
I  would,  at  least,  not  hear  the  moans  of  some  of  the  poor 
creatures  who  are  in  here.    But  what's  the  news?" 

"You'll  first  promise  me  you  won't  get  excited?" 

"Yes,  I  promise." 

"Well,  Mrs.  Dent  has  got  a  divorce  from  Dent,  the 
papers  have  been  full  of  it,  and,  in  filing  her  complaint, 
she  made  you  co-respondent.  She  herself  is  away  in  a  sani- 
tarium, but,  as  you  know,  her  people  are  very  wealthy,  and 
they  engaged  one  of  the  leading  law  firms  in  Chicago  to 
handle  her  case.  Their  investigators  were  around,  to  see 
the  madam,  but  she  stood  pat,  positively  refusing  to  give 


134  THE  INVALID 

them  any  information.  It  seemed,  however,  that  they  didn't 
need  her.  I  suppose,  if  they  had,  they  would  have  made  her 
cough  up.  Some  one,  however,  had  been  leaking,  as  it 
would  seem  they  had  all  the  dope  they  wanted.  It  was  first 
thought  it  was  some  of  the  girls  in  the  place,  but  they  all 
denied  it.  Mugsy  was  furious.  He  swore  if  he  knew  who'd 
peached  he'd  cut  their  hearts  out.  He  has  a  suspicion  it 
was  Ike  Rosenthal,  or  some  of  his  gang,  that  is  at  the  bot- 
tom of  it,  and  furnished  the  evidence  for  the  complainant. 
The  reason  they  had  not  come  to  see  you  was  Dent  had 
sufficient  influence  with  the  politicians  who  run  things  to 
have  the  house  physician  certify  that  you  were  too  low  to 
have  you  interviewed,  that  it  might  cost  you  your  life.  So 
the  warden  prevented  the  newspaper  men  or  the  lawyers 
from  coming  to  see  you." 

Miss  Montague  began  to  breathe  heavily,  and  a  flush 
came  over  her  face,  as  the  blonde  went  on  with  the  narra- 
tive. Verona  hesitated,  seeing  the  effect  her  story  was 
causing.    "Go  on,"  gasped  the  invalid. 

"When  the  day  of  the  trial  arrived,  the  court  room  was 
crowded,  the  elite  of  Chicago  was  in  attendance,  believing 
they  would  hear  something  spicy.  I  got  in  early,  and  had 
a  good  place.  I  noticed  Rosenthal  and  some  of  his  pals  were 
present — he  had  a  place  within  the  rail.  The  Dent  family's 
doctor  was  pointed  out  to  me.  He  was  in  conference  with 
her  lawyers.  As  soon  as  the  judge  put  in  an  appearance  we 
were  all  on  the  'que  vive',  with  our  ears  cocked,  anxious  to 
hear  what  was  going  on,  but  we  were  sadly  disappointed. 
Dent  was  there,  surrounded  by  his  lawyers.  He  seemed 
awfully  excited,  and  was  as  pale  as  a  ghost.  His  grit  seemed 
to  have  left  him  entirely.  The  judge  asked,  'Are  all  parties 
engaged  in  this  case  ready  to  proceed?'  One  of  Mrs.  Dent's 
lawyers  said,  'We  are  ready,  your  honor.'     One  of  Dent's 


THE  INVALID  135 

lawyers  spoke  up  and  said,  *We  will  be  ready  in  a  few 
moments. ' 

I  noticed  one  of  Dent's  lawyers  going  over  to  where 
Mrs.  Dent's  lawyers  were.  He  had  a  whispered  conversa- 
tion with  them.  When  he  returned  to  his  colleagues,  there 
was  more  whispering.  Then  one  from  each  side  went  up  to 
where  the  judge  sat,  and  had  a  whispering  with  him.  After 
a  little  talk,  he  went  into  his  chambers,  all  the  lawyers  fol- 
lowing him.  After  a  few  moments,  Mrs.  Dent's  father  was 
called  in,  as  was  also  the  doctor.  The  crowd  in  the  court 
room  began  to  get  very  impatient,  "We  waited  around  for 
a  full  hour.  When  we  saw  the  judge  come  out,  followed  by 
all  the  lawyers,  and  Mrs,  Dent's  father,  the  bailiff  in  the 
court  rapped  for  order,  and  then  the  judge  spoke  up,  say- 
ing, 'The  case  of  Dent  versus  Dent  has  been  settled;  Mrs, 
Dent  being  granted  a  divorce,  with   full  custody   of  her 

children;  Mr.  ,  on  behalf  of  his  daughter,  refusing  to 

accept  any  alimony;  an  arrangement  has  been  agreed  upon 
by  the  representatives  of  Mr,  Dent,  and  acceptable  to  the 
friends  of  the  complainant,  by  which  Mr,  Dent  has  con- 
sented to  set  aside  a  considerable  sum  for  the  benefit  of  the 
children, ' 

"All  eyes  were  on  Dent,  He  seemed  very  despondent. 
Mrs.  Dent's  father  and  brothers  then  left  the  court  room, 
followed  by  a  number  who  seemed  to  be  friends  of  her  family. 
I  noticed  one  of  her  lawyers  went  over  to  where  Rosenthal 
stood,  and  shook  hands  with  him.  Ike  was  laughing  at 
whatever  he  said  to  him.  Then  the  crowd  in  the  court  room 
began  to  file  out.  I  heard  one  man  say,  if  they  hadn't  been 
rich  all  their  dirty  linen  would  have  had  to  be  washed  in 
open  court.  Those  who  came  from  a  distance  went  away 
rip-roaring  mad. 

"But,  Clem,  I  was  nearly  forgetting.    You  remember  old 


136  THE  INVALID 

Barclay?  They  say  he's  in  trouble  too.  His  frau  has  gone 
and  left  him.  And  Young  Johnson — you  know  him — he  was 
a  good  friend  of  yours,  and  used  to  spend  lots  of  money. 
He's  gone  to  Hot  Springs  to  get  boiled  out." 

At  this  stage  of  Verona's  gossip  she  observed  that  Clem 
Montague  was  paying  no  attention  to  her.  She  stood  up, 
and  looked  at  the  girl  in  the  bed.  She  was  lying  on  her  back, 
her  eyes  seemed  glazed  and  directed  toward  the  ceiling. 
Verona,  believing  her  friend  was  in  a  state  of  collapse,  and 
going  toward  where  a  nurse  stood,  remarked,  "I  think 
Miss  Montague  is  not  so  well  today." 

"She  was  all  right  this  morning,"  replied  the  nurse. 

"Well,  you'd  better  go  see  her,"  The  nurse  went  to 
the  cot  where  Clem  lay,  and  after  the  most  casual  examina- 
tion summoned  an  interne,  who  in  turn  summoned  the  house 
physician.  He,  on  looking  at  his  patient,  inquired,  "Has 
she  had  any  visitors  today?"  The  nurse  responded,  "Yes, 
that  woman  who  has  the  permit." 

"Then,  for  the  future,  permit  or  no  permit,  you  must 
not  allow  anyone  to  see  her  without  my  special  sanction. 
She  is  very  low,  and  has  a  high  fever.  Come  to  my  office, 
and  I  will  give  you  instructions,  and  a  prescription.  In  the 
meantime  keep  a  careful  watch  over  her.  I  fear  her  brain 
is  affected." 

That  night,  those  close  to  her  bedside  heard  her  con- 
stantly appealing  to  some  persons,  one  by  the  name  of 
Robert,  and  another  by  the  name  of  Matthew  Howard,  to 
come  and  save  her,  as  if  she  was  in  constant  dread. 


THE  CONVALESCENT  137 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
THE  CONVALESCENT 

For  a  full  month  after  the  visit  of  the  big  blonde,  on 
which  occasion  she  informed  Miss  Montague  of  the  divorce 
proceedings  against  her  old  friend  and  patron,  Mr,  Dent, 
Clementina  in  the  delirium  of  brain  fever  raved  incoher- 
ently about  certain  people.  The  nurse  and  attendants  oft 
listened  to  see  if  they  could  hear  something  that  would  give 
them  a  clue  to  her  relatives  whom  they  might  summon  to 
her  bedside ;  the  physician,  in  common  with  all  around  her, 
having  little  hopes  of  her  recovery. 

They  knew  where  she  had  come  from  on  being  brought 
to  the  hospital,  but,  on  inquiry  there,  no  information  could 
be  gleaned  as  to  who  she  was,  or  whence  she  came. 

The  madam,  on  being  interviewed,  stated  she  came  there 
like  many  other  of  her  girls  and  solicited  board.  **I  took 
her  in  and  had  her  for  three  years.  Latterly  she  was  very 
wayward  and  careless,  in  fact  I  had  a  lot  of  trouble  with 
her.  I  was,  however,  sorry  when  she  took  ill ;  she  was  callous 
and  didn't  seem  to  care  what  trouble  she  gave  to  others.  1 
lost  some  of  my  best  patrons  over  her." 

"Do  you  think  any  of  your  other  girls  could  give  us 
any  information  about  her  friends  or  relatives?" 

"No,  I  don't  believe  they  could.  She  was  very  close, 
and  never  took  any  of  us  into  her  confidence.  I  used  to 
have  a  woman  here  who  seemed  to  pal  in  with  her.  She  left 
about  three  weeks  ago  in  a  tantrum,  and  is  now  staying  at 
Miss  La  Roque's,  a  French  house  on  Twenty-Second  street. 


138  THE  CONVALESCENT 

You  might  see  her,  but  please  don't  mention  my  name  in  the 
matter,  as  the  woman  at  La  Roque's  and  I  are  not  very 
good  friends.  The  woman  you  want  to  see  is  named  Verona. 
She's  a  big  blonde." 

"Well,  the  girl's  going  to  die  anyhow,  but  the  warden 
thought  he  would  try  and  locate  some  of  her  family,  so  as 
to  give  them  an  opportunity  to  claim  the  body  if  they 
wanted  it." 

"Why,  what  would  they  want  with  it?  Besides,  I 
thought  the  surgeons  might  practice  on  her." 

"No,  we  have  hundreds  like  her,  who  die  from  the  same 
cause.  They're  a  drug  on  the  market.  The  warden  and 
house  physician  have  an  idea  she  was  a  girl  of  some  educa- 
tion and  refinement,  and  probably  might  have  some  well- 
to-do  friends  whom  they  would  like  to  notify.  I'll  go  over 
and  see  the  woman  on  Twenty-second  street,  and  see  if  she 
knows  anything  about  her." 

"Take  a  drink  before  you  go.  What  will  you  have?" 
She  touched  a  bell  to  summon  a  waiter,  "What  is  it  to  be?" 

"I'll  take  a  little  brandy." 

"Bring  this  gentleman  a  good  drink  of  brandy." 

"I  suppose  you  smoke?" 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

"And  a  couple  of  good  cigars." 

The  man  left  with  the  impression  that  Madam  Blom- 
garten  was  a  very  estimable  lady. 

On  his  reporting  at  the  house  on  Twenty-second  street 
and  inquiring  for  a  girl  by  the  name  of  Verona,  he  was 
ushered  into  the  parlor.  It  being  early  in  the  afternoon, 
Miss  Verona  was  not  made  up.  She  was  scantily  attired, 
but  a  commodious  kimono  covered  her  ample  form.  Her 
blonde  locks  were  unkempt  from  the  night  before,  and 
looked  somewhat  like  a  capacious  mop  of  tow.    She  looked 


THE  CONVALESCENT  139 

at  her  visitor  on  entering  the  parlor,  and  made  a  little 
apology  for  not  being  over-presentable.  She  surmised  that 
his  object  in  coming  was  not  that  of  the  ordinary  caller. 

''Well,  my  man,  what's  your  trouble?"  was  her  greet- 
ing. 

"You  know  a  girl  by  the  name  of  Clementina  Mon- 
tague, who  is  in  the  hospital?" 

"Yes,  is  she  dead?"  eagerly. 

"No,  not  when  I  left,  but  very  near  it."  . 

"Poor  Clem!  I  knew  her  well.  We  boarded  at  the 
same  house  for  three  years.  Madam  Blomgarten 's,  the  old 
cow." 

The  investigator  received  a  shock,  when  he  heard  such 
disparaging  remarks  about  the  lady  he  had  seen  so  recently, 
and  of  whom  he  had  formed  so  favorable  an  opinion. 

"Yes,"  said  the  blonde,  continuing,  "that  old  b 

treated  poor  Clem  outrageously.  You  see  she  was  an  easy 
mark,  and,  when  she  began  to  run  down,  madam  made  her 
accept  anything  that  came  along." 

"I  have  been  over  to  see  her,  and  it  was  she  that  sent 
me  to  you.  What  I  want  to  find  out  is,  do  you  know  any 
of  the  girl's  friends  that  we  could  communicate  with,  as 
we  don't  think  she'll  last  long?" 

"Poor  Clem!  I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  that.  I  used 
to  go  to  see  her,  but  they  refused  me  admittance.  I  haven't 
seen  her  for  a  month." 

"I  think  you  could  see  her  now,  if  you  wanted.  They 
would  not  be  likely  to  object." 

"Then  I'll  go  this  very  day." 

"Did  she  ever  tell  any  one,  to  your  knowledge,  where 
she  came  from?" 

"No.  She  was  brought  to  the  resort  by  a  cadet.  She 
was  a  beautiful  girl  then,  and  soon  had  lots  of  friends.    The 


140  THE  CONVALESCENT 

madam,  the  old  she-wolf,  made  a  harvest  out  of  her;  but 
she  took  unkindly  to  the  life,  and  was  somewhat  despondent. 
We  never  could  get  anything  out  of  her  as  to  where  she 
came  from,  and  I  am  sure  she  never  told  any  of  her  male 
admirers.  The  past  few  months,  before  she  sickened,  she 
was  run  down  considerably,  and  began  to  lose  patronage. 
Then  the  madam  was  ugly  to  her  because  she  wasn't  bring- 
ing much  grist  to  her  mill — but  I  always  stuck  up  for  her. '  * 

"Well,  as  I  can't  find  anything  as  to  her  relatives,  I 
may  as  well  go  back  and  report.    So  I'll  bid  you  good  day." 

That  afternoon,  the  blonde  made  application  at  the 
hospital.  She  was  instructed  to  go  to  the  office  and  see  the 
house  physician.  That  gentleman  treated  her  very  cour- 
teously, when  she  met  him. 

"So  you  have  come  to  see  Miss  Montague?"  he  said. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Well,  you  can  see  her,  but  she  will  be  hardly  able  to 
recognize  you.  I  have  very  little  prospect  of  pulling  her 
through — but  you  know  the  old  proverb,  'while  there's  life 
there's  hope'." 

Verona,  on  reaching  the  bedside  of  her  old  associate, 
was  surprised  at  the  wonderful  change.  The  girl  lay  in  a 
semi-conscious  condition. 

"I  am  afraid  she  is  about  to  cash  in  her  chips,"  look- 
ing at  the  nurse,  who  assumed  to  take  no  notice  of  the 
vulgar  remark,  as  she  considered  it,  in  the  presence  of  the 
dying. 

"How  long  has  she  been  in  this  condition?"  inquired 
the  blonde. 

"On  the  day  of  your  last  visit,  she  seemed  to  collapse. 
Brain  fever  set  in,  and,  on  account  of  her  weakened  con- 
dition, she  has  never  seemed  to  rally." 

"Can  nothing  be  done  for  her?" 


THE  CONVALESCENT  141 

"No  more  than  has  been  done;  in  fact,  the  house  phy- 
sician has  given  her  special  attention.  He  thinks  she  has 
been  a  girl  of  some  acquirements  and  training." 

"So  she  was,  and  no  doubt  has  friends  somewhere,  who 
would  be  willing  to  help  her.  Do  you  think  I  could  get  her 
a  little  extra  attendance  for  a  consideration?" 

"No,  you  can't  do  much  for  her." 

"What  I  mean,  could  I  get  some  of  the  patients  who 
are  able  to  get  around  to  moisten  her  lips,  or  fan  her — if 
you  think  that  would  do  any  good?" 

"Probably  it  might  be  well  to  have  some  one  close  to 
her  to  notify  us  of  any  change  in  her  condition,  for  better  or 
for  worse.  There's  a  poor  girl  there  who,  like  herself,  is 
friendless,  and  a  little  change,  I'm  sure,  would  be  very 
acceptable." 

"Call  her  over,  please." 

"Here,  Maggie,"  addressing  a  girl  about  Clem's  age, 
"this  lady  wants  to  speak  to  you."  On  the  girl  coming 
forward,  Verona  addressed  her: 

"Miss,  I  am  interested  in  this  sick  woman,  and  would 
like  you  to  pay  a  little  attention  to  her.  See  if  she  wants 
for  anything,  and  here's  a  couple  of  dollars  for  you." 

"Thank  you,  ma'am.  I'm  sure  I'll  do  all  I  can  for  her. 
She's  like  myself,  an  unfortunate." 

"I'll  be  back  again  in  a  few  days,  and  give  you  some 
more ;  and,  nurse,  if  she  should  die,  please  notify  me  at 
once.  Here's  my  card,"  which  read  "Verona  Larsen,  No. 
22nd  St." 

The  nurse  was  impressed  with  the  generous  sentiment 
of  the  blonde,  and,  giving  a  casual  glance  at  the  directions 
on  the  card,  surmised  her  calling. 

Verona,  hearing  no  news  from  the  hospital  for  four 
days,  decided  on  paying  another  visit.    On  arriving  at  the 


142  THE  CONVALESCENT 

wicket  where  inquirers  have  to  tell  whom  they  want  to  see, 
and  on  stating  her  mission,  she  was  again  referred  to  the 
house  physician,  who,  on  recognizing  her,  said: 

"Well,  your  friend  is  still  living,  but  if  I  permit  you 
to  see  her  it  will  be  only  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  you 
must  not  talk  much  to  her.  She's  had  a  change  for  the 
better,  so  here, "giving  her  a  card,  *'go  up  and  be  careful." 

''When  she  reached  the  bedside,  she  was  pleased  to 
notice  Maggie  gently  fanning  the  sick  woman. 

Clem  recognized  her,  and  essayed  to  speak.  The  big 
blonde  placed  her  finger  to  her  lips,  and  sat  down  on  the 
chair  vacated  by  the  temporary  nurse.  She  then  took  the 
sick  woman's  palsied  hand  in  hers  and  smiled. 

Clem  Montague  stared  at  her,  and  again  essayed  to 
speak.    The  blonde  placed  her  fingers  to  her  lips. 

Clem  smiled  at  her,  knowing  that  she  meant  silence. 

The  nurse,  coming  forward,  greeted  Verona.  "You 
see  a  marked  change  for  the  better  in  your  friend,"  in  a 
low  tone,  "what  she  wants  now  is  quiet.  Maggie  here  has 
been  very  attentive  to  her." 

Clem  looked  at  the  girl,  an  outcast  like  herself,  and 
smiled  her  indorsement  of  the  nurse's  recommendations. 

Verona  stood  up,  and,  taking  Maggie  aside,  gave  her 
instructions  and  a  two-dollar  bill.  I  am  thankful  to  you 
for  what  you  have  done  for  my  sick  friend.  Now  as  she  is 
on  the  way  to  recovery,  probably  she  will  require  a  little 
more  attention.  So,  when  I  come  next  week,  I'll  treat  you 
better." 

"I  am  sure  it  is  very  kind  of  you,  ma'am,  and  I'll  do 
all  I  can  for  her,  but  they  talk  about  sending  me  out  of 
here  in  a  few  days,  and  I'm  sure  I'm  not  fit  to  go." 

"I'll  try  and  have  you  kept  here  a  little  longer.  What's 
your  name?" 


THE  CONVALESCENT  143 

On  the  girl  giving  it,  Verona  made  a  note  of  it. 

**I  must  go  now."  Going  over  to  the  bed,  she  took 
Clem's  hand  in  hers.  "Mum's  the  order  of  the  day,"  she 
whispered  to  her.  "I'm  not  allowed  to  talk  to  you.  Will 
see  you  in  a  few  days,  so  good-bye." 

Verona  lost  no  time  in  seeing  her  county  commissioner, 
and  secured  a  stay  for  Maggie,  whose  gratitude  was  shown 
in  the  attention  she  gave  to  her  patient,  as  she  called  Clem, 
who  rapidly  improved.  Verona  visited  her  often,  and, 
M'hen  she  was  able  to  indulge  in  little  dainties,  Verona  saw 
that  neither  she  nor  Maggie  went  short.  In  time  Clementina 
was  able  to  go  around,  and  hold  communion  with  others 
like  herself,  and  was  on  a  fair  way  to  recovery.  At  the  end 
of  four  weary  months  she  was  notified  that  she  was  now 
ready  to  be  discharged.  Her  heart  sank  at  the  information. 
She  had  to  go  — BUT  WHERE? 


144  ''NECESSITY  KNOWS  NO  LAW" 

CHAPTER  XX. 
"  NECESSITY  KNOWS  NO  LAW." 

The  morning  Clementina  left  the  hospital  she  stood  like 
one  dazed,  still  weak,  her  mind  distracted  at  the  thought 

of  where  she  should  go.     Home  to  B was  out  of  the 

question ;  and  to  return  to  Madam  Blomgarten,  even  if  she 
would  take  her  in,  was  unthinkable.  On  entering  the 
hospital  she  had  a  few  dollars.  But  she  had  indulged  in  a 
few  luxuries  that  her  improving  condition  made  her  crave 
for,  and  had  been  generous  to  some  less  fortunate  financially 
than  herself.     Maggie  in  particular  shared  in  her  bounty. 

After  some  thought,  on  reaching  the  street,  she  decided 
to  visit  Verona  at  the  house  on  22nd  street  without  a 
moment's  delay. 

It  was  an  agreeable  surprise  to  Verona,  who  embraced 
her,  then  stood  her  off,  so  as  to  get  a  better  look  at  her. 

"My,  Clem,  how  you  have  failed !  You  were  never  very 
plump,  now  you  are  so  thin  you  could  hardly  cast  a  shadow." 

"You  know  what  I've  gone  through,  Verona." 

Yes,  girl,  but  you  must  have  rest  and  plenty  of  fresh 
air.    You  haven't  been  to  see  the  madam  yet,  have  you?" 

"No,  this  is  my  first  call,  but  I  will  have  to  see  her,  as 
I  have  a  trunk  and  some  things  there  that  I  am  anxious  to 
get  and  dispose  of.    I  will  need  some  money." 

"Well,  I  daren't  go  with  you.  When  I  left  I  had  a  row 
with  her,  and,  if  it  hadn't  been  that  Mugsy  was  present, 
I  would  have  given  her  something  to  remember." 


"NECESSITY  KNOWS  NO  LAW"  145 

**I  suppose  then  I  will  have  to  face  her  myself." 

"Where  do  you  expect  to  sell  your  things?  You  know 
the  girls  in  the  resorts  are  not  allowed  to  buy  anything  ex- 
cept through  the  regular  channels,  and  most  of  the  clothes 
you  have  are  only  suitable  for  women  of  our  calling.  So 
I'm  afraid  you  won't  get  much  for  them." 

"Little  or  much,  they  will  have  to  go,  as  I  will  have 
no  further  use  for  them." 

"Why,  what  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"Seek  a  situation.  I  don't  care  what,  so  that  I  will  be 
able  to  keep  myself." 

"Why,  you  silly  girl!  You're  not  fit  to  do  anything. 
Who  would  look  at  you  and  employ  you?" 

* '  I  intend,  if  I  get  sufficient  out  of  the  goods  I  have,  to 
take  a  couple  of  weeks'  rest  before  I  look  for  anything.  I 
may  gain  strength  and  look  better,  but  advise  me  where 
am  I  likely  to  sell  my  things.  If  I  try  to  pawn  them,  they 
would  hardly  give  me  anything  on  them,  and,  if  they  did,  I 
would  probably  never  release  them." 

"The  only  place  I  know  where  they  buy  such  things 
is  on  State  street — there's  where  the  girls  dispose  of  their 
surplus,  or  when  they  want  to  get  a  little  ready  cash." 

"Then  we  will  have  to  try  them." 

"You  go  ahead,  then,  and  get  your  trunk,  or  will  you 
wait  until  after  dinner?" 

"I  intend  to  go  at  once,  as  I  need  the  money." 

"Then  I'll  tell  you  what  you'll  do.  You  get  a  cab,  and 
drive  over — you're  hardly  fit  to  walk — and  I  will  be  waiting 
for  you  at  the  corner  of  Harrison  and  State.  Don't  keep 
me  waiting  longer  than  necessary." 

On  arriving  at  Blomgarten's,  the  madam  received  her 
very  coldly. 


146  "NECESSITY  KNOWS  NO  LAW" 

"I  suppose  you  have  come  for  your  things?'*  she  re- 
marked. 

"Yes,  ma'am,  I  came  to  remove  them." 

"They're  up  in  the  storage  room.  Dinah  will  show  you 
where  they  are."  She  called  Dinah,  who,  on  her  arrival, 
was  told  to  show  Miss  Montague  where  her  trunk  was. 

Dinah  was  as  cold  as  her  mistress.  She  pointed  the 
trunk  out.  Clem  turned  the  goods  over,  and,  missing  some 
of  the  best,  said,  "Dinah,  they  are  not  all  here." 

"Well,  Miss,  I  don't  know  anything  about  what  you 
had,  and  if  there's  anything  missing  you'll  have  to  see  the 
missus  about  it." 

"You  know,  Dinah,  I  had  more  than  is  here." 

"I'se  supposed  to  know  nothing.  Miss." 

"Well,  I'll  see  the  madam." 

On  reaching  the  parlor  where  madam  sat,  and  on  mak- 
ing her  complaint,  the  lady  of  the  house  immediately  showed 
some  temper. 

"You  don't  want  to  infer  I  took  them,  do  you?" 

"I  don't  want  to  charge  you  or  any  one  else  with  steal- 
ing, but  all  my  things  are  not  there.  You  know  I  had — " 
mentioning  a  few  things  which  were  not  in  her  trunk. 

"Well,  I  don't  know  anything  about  them,  and  I  have 
no  time  to  waste  on  you.  You  have  already  caused  me  too 
much  trouble.    So  take  what  there  is  and  go." 

Clem  Montague,  seeing  the  futility  of  arguing  with 
the  brothel  keeper,  summoned  the  cabman,  who  carried  the 
trunk  down  stairs  and  placed  it  on  the  front  of  his  cab. 

"Drive  to  the  corner  of  Harrison  and  State  streets," 
was  her  order,  as  she  entered  the  cab.  Verona  was  there 
ahead  of  her. 

"I  see  you've  got  them,"  was  her  remark,  as  she  en- 
tered the  cab. 


"NECESSITY  KNOWS  NO  LAW"  147 

"No,  only  some  of  them;  most  of  my  best  things  were 
taken." 

"The  old  thief,"  was  the  blonde's  remark,  as  she  took 
her  seat.  "What  w^e'll  do  now,"  continued  the  blonde, 
"we'll  drive  to  where  I  stay,  and  call  the  woman  who  buys 
such  things  up  on  the  phone,  and,  while  we  are  waiting  for 
her,  we  can  get  a  little  lunch." 

A  typical  Jewish  woman,  who  made  it  a  special  business 
to  buy  the  cast-off  clothing  of  the  women  in  the  high  class 
resorts,  and  sell  them  to  those  who  were  roomers,  or  deni- 
zens in  the  slum  localities,  appeared  promptly  at  La  Roque's 
shortly  after  noon.  She  examined  the  goods  with  a  critical 
eye,  and  then  offered  fifteen  dollars  for  them.  Clementina 
was  very  much  disappointed,  shocked  that  the  articles  which 
had  cost  her  probably  two  hundred  dollars  brought  but 
fifteen! 

Verona  Larson  ridiculed  the  offer. 

"You  see,"  said  the  woman,  "there  is  little  market  for 
clothing  of  this  description.  None  but  sporting  women  and 
the  cheap  vaudeville  actresses  can  use  them.  I  may  have 
some  of  them  on  my  shelves  for  years." 

"Do  you  know  what  they  cost?"  said  Verona. 

"That's  no  criterion,"  promptly  responded  the  dealer. 
"You  girls  are  bled  to  death  having  to  pay  twice  or  three 
times  the  value  of  every  thing  you  purchase." 

"You'll  give  more  than  fifteen  for  them,  or  else  we 
won't  sell  them,"  said  Verona. 

The  woman  turned  them  over  again,  and  raised  the 
price  to  seventeen  dollars. 

"No,  twenty  dollars  or  no  sale."  Clementina  Montague 
left  the  bargaining  to  her  friend. 

The  JeAvish  woman  complained,  critised,  and  ran  down 
the  goods  as  being  old-fashioned,  soiled,  and  frayed.     But 


148  "NECESSITY  KNOWS  NO  LAW" 

Verona  was  firm,  and,  as  a  final  result,  after  many  protests 
as  to  being  imposed  on,  the  dealer  produced  the  twenty 
dollars,  and  the  sale  was  effected. 

That  afternoon  Clementina  Montague  secured  for  her- 
self a  room  in  a  flat  building  on  South  Halsted  street,  pay- 
ing two  dollars  a  week  in  advance.  The  woman  who  acted 
as  agent  asked  no  questions  as  to  the  occupation  or  stand- 
ing of  her  tenant. 

The  room  was  scantily  furnished.  A  cheap  iron  bed, 
a  table,  washstand  with  jug  and  basin,  and  a  few  chairs. 
A  clothes  closet  was  part  of  the  room.  There  were  no  cook- 
ing utensils  or  crockery,  except  a  glass  and  jug  for  water. 
The  occupants  of  those  rooms  were  expected  to  eat  out. 

Clementina,  on  receiving  possession  of  her  room,  threw 
herself  on  the  bed,  for  it  was  at  least  a  haven  of  rest.  She 
slept,  and  after  a  couple  of  hours  rose  refreshed,  washed 
and  combed  her  hair,  and  then  went  out  to  eat.  Before  she 
went  to  bed  that  night  she  counted  her  resources  and  found 
she  had  still  left  nineteen  dollars  and  twenty-three  cents, 
which  she  thought  ample  until  she  could  get  a  situation, 
and  commence  a  new  life.  Still  feeble,  she  determined  to 
rest  for  a  couple  of  weeks,  which  she  spent  in  visiting  the 
parks,  with  an  occasional  call  on  her  friend  Verona,  who 
returned  her  visits,  until  one  afternoon  Verona  Larson  in- 
formed her  she  was  going  back  to  St.  Louis,  where  she  be- 
longed. Clementina  was  very  much  depressed  with  the 
news,  as  Verona,  crude  as  she  was,  was  the  only  loyal  friend 
she  had  left. 

*'I  am  sorry  you're  going  away,  but  I  suppose  your 
people  are  living  there." 

"Yes,  I  have  an  old  mother.  I  have  sent  her  money 
regularly.    She  thinks  I  am  forelady  in  a  big  house." 


*' NECESSITY  KNOWS  NO  LAW"  149 

"I,  too,  have  a  mother  living,"  sighed  Clem.  "I  wish 
I  could  go  back  to  my  old  home  and  see  her,  but  that's  im- 
possible. They  all  think  I  am  dead,  and  I  often  wish  I  were, 
but  you'll  write  to  me,  Verona,  won't  you?" 

"Yes,  sure,  so  good-bye!    I  must  be  going," 

When  she  had  left,  Martha  Hill  figured  she  hadn't  a 
friend  in  the  world  she  could  turn  to.  Two  weeks  of  idle- 
ness sadly  depleted  her  exchequer,  so  she  started  out  one 
Monday  morning  to  seek  a  position.  Her  first  call  was  on 
a  labor  agency,  that  taxed  her  two  dollars,  and  inquired 
what  kind  of  a  position  she  wanted. 

"I  am  not  particular.  My  choice,  however,  would  be 
with  a  respectable  family  as  chambermaid,  assistant  cook, 
or  nurse." 

"I  suppose  you  have  good  reference  from  your  last 
place?" 

This  was  an  unexpected  obstacle  that  Martha  had  never 
thought  of. 

"You  know,  Miss,  no  good  family  would  take  you  in 
without  reference." 

"Then,  I  have  none.  Do  you  think  you  could  get  me 
a  position  in  a  store?" 

"What  experience  have  you?" 

"I  am  a  country  girl.  I  have  a  fairly  good  education, 
and  could  act  as  clerk." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  of  anything  at  present.  You  can 
come  around  in  a  few  days.  In  the  meantime,  if  anything 
turns  up  I  will  write  you." 

She  resolved  not  to  wait,  but  seek  a  place  through  the 
newspapers,  which  had  columns  of  "want  ads"  for  girls  in 
nearly  every  station  in  life.  So  she  started  out  each  morn- 
ing to  call  on  as  many  as  her  strength  would  allow,  to  be 
met  with  the  answer  "too  late,"  or  "what  experience  have 


150  "NECESSITY  KNOWS  NO  LAW" 

you  had  ? "  or  "  what  we  want  is  young  girls.  * '  She  returned 
home  many  nights  disheartened  and  weary.  Her  courage 
began  to  fail  her. 

The  labor  agency,  which  had  got  her  two  dollars,  in- 
formed her  they  were  doing  the  best  they  could,  but  the 
labor  market  was  glutted  at  present,  and  that  having  no 
references  her  opportunities  were  very  limited. 

Ere  a  month  was  over,  after  disposing  of  her  only  valu- 
ables, her  resources  were  nearly  exhausted.  She  began  to 
limit  her  supply  of  food.  Tea,  bread  and  milk  were  all  she 
could  afford.  On  the  fifth  M^eek  she  gave  the  landlady  her 
last  two  dollars,  and  had  hardly  money  to  furnish  her  with 
the  bare  necessities  of  life.  Still  there  was  a  flicker  of  hope, 
so  she  determined  to  hold  out.  On  the  sixth  week,  when 
her  rent  became  due,  she  could  not  meet  it.  The  landlady 
told  her  the  owner  of  this  property  never  lets  his  tenants 
go  back  in  the  rent,  "so,  if  you  are  unable  to  pay,  Miss,  you 
will  have  to  get  out." 

During  her  stay  in  the  flat  building,  on  the  same  floor 
were  many  rooms.  Mostly  occupied  by  young  women,  she 
had  often  of  an  evening,  when  she  sat  alone,  heard  them 
going  to  their  rooms  accompanied  by  men.  She  surmised 
what  their  purpose  was,  and  in  sheer  desperation,  one  even- 
ing, when  she  had  only  a  crust  of  bread  and  a  little  milk 
the  whole  day,  and  the  threat  of  ejectment  by  the  landlaly 
hung  over  her  head,  she  set  out. 


THE  ROUND-UP  151 


CHAPTER  XXI. 
THE  ROUND-UP. 

Clementina  Montague  went  in  the  direction  of  Madi- 
son street,  and,  turning  west,  noticed  many  women  accost- 
ing men,  bent  on  the  same  errand  as  she  was  herself.  She 
let  many  men  pass  her,  not  having  the  courage  to  address 
them,  many  of  whom  gazed  significantly  at  her  as  she  turned 
her  head  away  from  them. 

At  length  one,  on  reaching  her,  said,  *'Good  evening, 
Miss."    She  stood  and  responded  to  his  salutation. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  he  inquired. 

** Nowhere  in  particular." 

**Just  out  for  a  stroll?" 

**Yes,  sir." 

** Looking  for  a  sweetheart,  I  suppose?" 

"I  wouldn't  mind." 

"Where  do  you  live?" 

**I  have  a  room  of  my  own  on  Halsted  street,  No. ." 

"Will  you  take  me  to  it?" 

"Yes,  if  you  want  to  go." 

"What  will  you  charge?" 

"Just  what  you  would  like  to  give  me.  I  am  very  poor, 
and  cannot  be  too  exacting." 

"Give  me  a  good  time?" 

"I  will  try  to  please  you." 

"Well,  you  come  with  me.    I  am  a  police  officer.'* 

She  begged  pitifully  for  him  to  let  her  go. 


152  THE  ROUND-UP 

"This  is  the  first  night  I  have  been  out,  and  have  been 
driven  to  it  by  want  and  hunger,"  she  cried. 

"That's  the  old  gag.  You  can  tell  your  story  to  the 
justice  in  the  morning," 

Just  then,  a  number  of  girls  ran  by.  The  officer  who  had 
Clem  in  charge  tried  to  grab  one  of  them  as  they  passed, 
but  having  to  hold  on  to  Miss  Montague,  who,  he  was  bound, 
should  not  escape,  the  fleeing  girls  avoided  him.  Ere  the 
officer  had  started  along  with  his  prisoner,  two  other  officers 
came  along,  each  having  two  girls  in  his  charge. 

"Bring  her  along,  Mike,"  said  one  of  them  addressing 
the  officer  who  had  hold  of  Clem,  who  still  was  pleading 
with  him.  He  said  gruffly,  "Come  along.  I've  no  time  to 
fritter  away  with  you."    He  held  her  by  the  arm. 

Seeing  her  appeal  would  avail  her  nothing,  Clem  walked 
by  the  side  of  the  man.  On  the  road  they  were  joined  by 
others,  till  it  seemed  like  a  procession;  the  people  on  the 
sidewalk  laughing,  and  guying  the  girls  as  they  were  led 
past  them. 

Reaching  the  station,  the  place  was  crowded  with 
women  of  all  ages,  colors  and  conditions.  Some  of  them 
were  the  worse  for  liquor  and  persisted  in  giving  lip  to  the 
officers,  who  only  laughed  at  them.  When  one  was  extra 
violent  or  offensive,  she  was  grabbed  by  one  of  the  officers, 
led  to  the  stairs  leading  to  the  cells,  and  rudely  shoved 
down.  Some  there  were  who  were  so  much  the  worse  for 
drink  that  they  fell  in  a  heap  to  the  bottom  of  the  stairs, 
and  had  to  be  dragged  to  the  cell  in  which  they  were  thrown. 
Many  were  bailed  out  promptly.  A  justice  or,  more  prop- 
erly, an  injustice  was  on  hand  to  go  through  the  matter  of 
form,  and  earn  his  dollar. 

The  lieutenant,  who  just  arrived,  after  looking  over  the 


Brixc.  Hkr  Along  AIike' 


THE  ROUND-UP  153 

motley  group,  smiled,  as  he  said  to  the  desk  sergeant,  ''A 
pretty  good  haul  tonight,  Serg." 

"Yes,  sir,"  touching  his  hat.  ** We've  booked  ninety- 
seven  already,  and  they're  still  coming." 

There  was  a  ruddy-faced  man  at  the  clerk's  desk,  sign- 
ing bonds  as  fast  as  the  clerk  could  arrange  his  papers. 

Many  of  the  girls,  who  were  waiting  for  their  release, 
passed  ribald  remarks  about  the  "pinch,"  laughing  as  if  it 
was  a  joke. 

Several  who  were  friendless  were  ultimately  led  down 
stairs,  among  them  Clementina  Montague,  and  placed  in 
cells,  as  many  as  five  and  six  in  some  of  them,  to  await  trial 
in  the  morning. 

It  was  a  night  of  horrors.  Dante  could  have  found  an- 
other scene  to  illustrate  his  conception  of  the  abode  of  the 
eternally  damned. 

Some  there  were  who  screeched  out  foul  epithets  against 
the  minions  of  the  law ;  some  sang  ribald  or  lewd  songs ; 
others  raved  in  their  delirium.  There  were  occasional  fights 
where,  after  considerable  hair  pulling,  the  combatants  had 
to  be  placed  in  separate  cells  ere  peace  could  be  restored. 
Even  then,  the  close  proximity  of  the  compartments  gave 
inmates  an  opportunity  to  tongue-thrash  each  other  in  un- 
printable language.  In  the  cell  Clementina  Montague  was 
placed  there  were  five  other  occupants,  one,  a  coarse,  \'nl- 
gar  colored  woman,  who  persisted  in  talking  to  herself  in 
spite  of  the  protests  of  others,  who  called  her  "the  black 

b "  and  threatened  her  with  violence.     There  was  little 

accommodation  in  the  cells,  the  occupants  having  either  to 
stand  up,  or  squat  on  the  floor. 

One  of  the  occupants  of  the  cell  Miss  Montague  was  in, 
though  a  veteran,  sat  silently  on  the  floor.    At  length,  notie- 


154  THE  ROUND-UP 

ing  Miss  Montague,  who  sat  beside  her,  she  said,  "So  they 
got  you  in  the  'round  up'?"  looking  at  her. 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean?" 

"Oh,  is  that  so?    Is  this  the  first  time  you  were  here?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  you've  been  fortunate.  I've  been  here  a  dozen 
times.  I'll  be  bailed  out  in  the  morning,  and  then  told  to 
go  hustle,  the  professional  bailer  and  the  judge  having  got 
their  bits.  You  see  them  and  the  police  and  politicians  all 
stand  in,  and,  whenever  they  want  to  bleed  us  girls,  the 
word  is  given  to  'round  us  up.'  We'll  all  be  turned  out 
tomorrow. ' ' 

"I  have  no  friends,"  replied  Clementina,  "there  will 
be  no  one  to  bail  me  out. ' ' 

"Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  remarked  the  girl,  "the 
bond  shark  may  take  a  chance  with  you.  He  runs  no  risk 
anyhow,  as  they  all  stand  in — even  the  tool  on  the  bench; 
he  gets  a  dollar  a  head  for  us  as  his  share,  a  part  of  our 
earnings.  When  we  get  out  tomorrow,  they'll  probably  let 
us  alone  for  a  couple  of  weeks,  then  the  police  will  be  very 
sociable  with  us,  especially  if  you  give  them  part  of  the 
proceeds." 

It  was  near  morning  before  a  lull  came  over  the  place. 
The  drunks,  exhausted  by  their  hilarity,  lay  on  the  floor  of 
their  cells,  and  all  was  quiet,  except  an  occasional  scream 
or  oath  from  some  of  the  cells. 

Shortly  before  the  judge  arrived,  all  the  women  who 
still  remained  were  taken  to  a  large  room  adjoining  the 
court,  to  await  their  turn  to  be  called.  Others,  who  had  been 
bailed  out  the  night  before,  sat  on  forms  in  the  body  of  the 
court  room,  some  were  in  groups  —  those  were  from  the 
houses  which  had  been  pulled.  A  well-dressed  woman,  the 
madam  of  the  establishment  they  were  from,  sat  in  their 


THE  ROUND-UP  155 

midst.  Occasionally  a  lawyer  would  hold  conference  with 
her,  or  a  policeman  would  nod  and  smile  at  her — she  show- 
ing no  resentment,  as  she  knew  it  was  the  order  of  the  day. 

In  the  pen,  as  it  was  called,  the  ruddy-faced  gentleman 
made  occasional  trips  to  confer  with  some  of  the  inmates, 
with  whom  he  seemed  acquainted.  On  one  occasion,  notic- 
ing Miss  Montague,  who  seemed  alone,  he  approached  her 
and  inquired  her  name. 

''Clementina  Montague." 

*'I  don't  remember  ever  seeing  you  here  before." 

"No;  this  is  the  first  time  I  have  been  here." 

*'Then  you're  new  in  this  district?" 

"Yes." 

"Have  you  no  friend  to  bail  you  out?" 

"No." 

"That's  too  bad.  I  would  bail  you  out  if  you  would 
agree  to  pay  me  back,"  At  this  moment  the  name  of 
"Clementina  Montague"  was  called  by  the  clerk  of  the 
court.  The  officer  who  arrested  her  came  in  to  convey  her 
to  the  court  room. 

"Wait  a  while,  Mike,"  said  the  bondsman  to  him. 
"Pass  her  case."     The  officer  returned  to  the  court  room. 

"What  do  you  say?"  said  the  ruddy-faced  man. 

"I  don't  see  any  way  to  pay  you  back.  Besides,  I  don't 
care  what  they  do  with  me." 

"Well,  if  that's  the  way  you  feel,  all  right,"  and  he 
returned  to  the  court  room. 

Clementina's  case  was  called,  the  policeman  coming  for 
her  and  lining  her  up  in  front  of  the  bar. 

The  judge  looked  at  her  over  his  spectacles,  and  then 
at  the  officer. 

"Your  honor,  this  woman  was  found  soliciting  on  Madi- 


156  THE  ROUND-UP 

son  street  yesterday  evening.  I  watched  her  accosting  a 
number  of  men,  and  then  felt  it  my  duty  to  arrest  her." 

"What  have  you  to  say  for  yourself?"  said  the  judge, 
looking  at  some  papers  on  his  desk,  and  seeming  to  take 
little  notice  of  the  prisoner. 

"What  the  officer  says  is  not  true." 

The  judge  raised  his  head,  and  frowned  at  her.  The 
policeman  only  smiled. 

"Well,  what  were  you  doing  on  Madison  street?"  in- 
quired the  judge. 

Clementina  held  down  her  head. 

His  honor  waited  a  moment  for  a  reply,  none  coming. 

"We  are  going  to  stop  this  street  walking,"  he  said, 
severely,  "which  is  becoming  so  prevalent  In  that  business 
thoroughfare."  He  looked  over  at  the  bondsman,  as  if 
waiting  for  a  cue,  but  the  bondsman  assumed  to  take  no 
notice.  Turning  to  the  prisoner,  he  said,  "Twenty-five  dol- 
lars and  costs." 

She  stood  as  if  in  a  stupor,  when  the  policeman  took 
her  by  the  arm  and  led  her  back  to  the  pen. 

The  professional  bondsman  followed  them  into  the  room. 

"I  see  the  judge  soaked  you,"  he  said. 

She  made  no  reply. 

"Three  months  in  the  bridewell,"  the  policeman  re- 
marked, laughing,  "will  teach  her  not  to  contradict  an 
officer  again,  and  I  want  to  serve  notice  on  you,"  looking 
at  her,  "every  time  I  catch  you  on  the  streets  I'll  run  you 
in."    He  then  left. 

She  was  indifferent  to  his  remarks. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do,"  said  the  bondsman.  "I'll 
pay  your  fine  and  costs,  and,  as  there's  no  use  of  you  going 
on  the  streets,  you'd  better  go  into  some  good  house  for  the 


THE  ROUND-UP  157 

time  being.  I  won't  press  you  too  hard  for  what  you'll 
owe  me." 

The  policemen  came  to  remove  those  who  still  remained 
in  the  large  room. 

"Dwell  a  moment,"  said  the  bondsman,  when  one  of 
the  officers  went  toward  Clementina. 

"All  right, ,"  said  the  policeman. 

"What  do  you  say?"  addressing  the  prisoner. 

"As  you  will,"  was  her  reply. 

He  immediately  left  the  room,  and  went  over  to  where 
the  judge  was  still  sitting,  and  whispered  something  to  him. 
The  judge  called  the  clerk  to  him  and  said,  "That  fine  of 
Clementina  Montague  is  suspended." 

"Yes,  sir." 

The  bondsman  went  with  the  clerk,  and  gave  him  some 
money.  Court  expenses,  particularly  the  judge's  rake-off, 
had  to  be  paid.  He  then  returned  to  the  room  where  Clem- 
entina Montague  was  still  sitting.  He  brought  a  young  man 
with  him. 

"Well,  I've  fixed  things  for  you.  Now  take  care  of 
yourself."  Turning  to  the  young  man,  he  said,  "Take  her 
over  to  Kanter's  and  tell  Kate  I  will  be  over  to  see  her." 

"Good-bye,  Miss,"  he  said,  as  he  extended  his  hand  to 
his  dupe. 


158  THE  SURPRISE 

CHAPTER  XXn. 

THE  SURPRISE 

The  little  town  of  B had  grown  rapidly  since  the 

time  of  Martha  Hill's  disappearance.  No  man  had  profited 
more  by  its  increasing  importance  than  had  Matt  Howard, 
who  ran  the  general  store.  Always  an  attentive  business 
man,  after  the  final  search  for  Martha  had  been  given  up, 
he  seemed  to  settle  down  with  but  one  object  in  view,  to 
make  mouey.  With  the  young  women  who  came  into  the 
store  he  was  always  sociable,  but  he  seemed  to  treat  all 
alike.  He  had  no  preference  for  any  of  them.  Bob  Hill 
and  he  were  constant  pals  and  neither  had  much  time  to 
waste  on  the  girls,  though  Robert  was  known  to  think  highly 
of  one  of  Howard's  sisters,  with  whom  he  used  to  gossip 
when  he  went  over  to  the  store  to  meet  Matt.  The  men- 
tion of  Martha's  name  had  been  dropped  entirely.  It  awoke 
unpleasant  memories,  all  knew  it.  So  none  dared  to  revive 
it.  Bob  had  also  shared  in  the  general  prosperity.  He  was 
now  chief  engineer  at  the  large  mill,  and  drew  a  liberal 
salary.  So  the  Hill  family  was  living  on  Easy  street.  Of 
course  the  old  couple  could  never  entirely  hide  their  grief. 
If  their  girl  only  lay  in  the  graveyard  they  would  have  been 
satisfied — they  knew  she  was  dead,  but  where,  buried  in 
an  unknown  grave,  or  perhaps  lying  at  the  bottom  of  Lake 
Michigan,  murdered,  or  killed,  or  drowned  by  accident, 
'twas  all  the  same.  They  were  denied  the  poor  comfort  of 
weeping  over  her  remains  or  tending  to  her  last  resting 
place.    The  old  couple  might  talk  over  the  sad  mystery  by 


THE  SURPRISE  159 

themselves,  but  never  in  the  presence  of  Bob  or  the  other 
children.  It  made  them  unhappy,  without  doing  good  — 
when  she  left  they  were  fortunate  in  having  a  photograph 
of  her.  Bob  had  sent  for  and  got  an  enlarged  picture  of  her 
in  a  fine  gilt  frame.  It  was  placed  in  the  most  prominent 
place  on  the  parlor  wall.  Matt  Howard  never  came  to  the 
Hill  home  but  he  glanced  up  at  the  picture  to  see  if  it  was 
still  there. 

Matt  Howard,  like  the  other  business  men  at  B , 

always  gave  his  orders  to  drummers.  The  salesmen  had 
many  samples  put  up  at  the  hotel  after  notifying  them  of 
their  coming.  Howard  being  the  best  risk  in  the  town, 
besides  the  largest  buyer,  his  trade  was  courted.  If  there 
was  a  bargain  he  got  a  friendly  tip  from  the  salesman  in 
advance.  If  it  had  to  be  a  cash  transaction  it  made  no  dif- 
ference to  Matthew.  The  money  was  in  the  bank,  as  his 
account  was  seldom  overdrawn.  One  time,  a  strong  induce- 
ment was  ofiEered  to  Matt  to  make  a  very  large  purchase. 
He  knew  the  price  was  right,  but  his  deposit  in  the  bank 
was  considerably  shy  to  cover  the  deal.  He  thought  before 
he  would  close  the  deal  he  would  see  the  bank  president. 

''I  have  a  splendid  offer  of  a  large  line  of  goods  I  can 
buy;  it  has  to  be  cash.  I  thought  I  would  come  over  and 
find  my  limit." 

"You  can't  find  it,"  said  the  president,  smiling  at  him. 

"But  it's  so  much!"  replied  Matt,  mentioning  quite  a 
large  sum. 

"Is  that  all?"  said  the  president,  looking  at  him.  "If 
it  is,  go  and  cinch  the  lot;  give  him  your  check,  I'll  take 
care  of  it.  You  can  ask  him  if  he  has  any  more  at  the  same 
price,  if  you  think  it  is  right." 

Matt  thanked  the  president  of  the  baak,  went  and 
secured  a  bargain,  which  his  customers  shared  in,  because 


160  THE  SURPRISE 

Howard  was  a  fair  dealer;  when  he  bought  cheap  he  sold 
cheap.  Deals  like  this  put  him  in  good  standing  with  all 
the  salesmen  for  the  big  houses.  Drummers  met  in  the  hotels 
of  an  evening  and  gossiped,  as  well  as  tried  to  amuse  them- 
selves. One  of  them  had  a  line  he  had  orders  to  sell,  the 
firm  wanted  to  unload. 

"Go  and  see  Howard,"  was  a  frequent  suggestion.  If 
it  was  a  new  man,  he  might  say,  "But  you  see  they  want 
cash  for  them. ' ' 

"Then  you  go  to  see  Matt  Howard,  he's  your  man." 

Matt  sometimes  warned  the  travelers  that  he  would  go 
up  to  Chicago,  as  he  felt  sure  they  were  sticking  him. 

"You  come,  Matt,"  said  the  representative  of  the  great 
firm  of  Dent  &  Company.  "We'll  pay  all  your  expenses, 
and  entertain  you  while  you're  there." 

It  was  only  a  bluff  of  Matt.    He  hadn't  time. 

"Come  now,"  said  the  drummer.  "I  dare  you  to 
come!" 

"Well,  I  may  some  day.  But  when  I  do  I'll  pay  my 
own  expenses,  and  not  put  you  fellows  to  the  trouble  of 
adding  it  to  the  prices  of  what  I  buy  of  you." 

The  drummer  laughed.  "You're  all  right.  Matt,  but 
come  anyway." 

In  the  fall  of  the  year,  Matt  decided  that  he  would 
take  a  run  up  to  Chicago  and  buy  some  winter  stock.  He 
made  known  his  intention  to  Bob  Hill,  and  pressed  him 
hard  to  go  with  him. 

"Come,  Bob,"  he  said.    "It  won't  cost  you  a  cent." 

"I  would  very  much  like  to,  but  I  can't  get  away. 
There's  no  one  I  could  leave  in  my  place,  and  we're  work- 
ing double  shift.  Besides,  you  know  I  have  often  been  in 
Chicago."    This  remark  brought  a  gloom  over  them  both. 


THE  SURPRISE  161 

They  knew  what  Bob's  mission  was  during  his  many  trips, 
so  the  subject  was  dropped. 

When  Matt  Howard  handed  his  card  to  a  man  who  sat 
at  a  desk,  just  as  you  entered  the  office  of  the  great  whole- 
sale establishment  of  Dent  &  Company,  the  man  took  the 
card  to  an  inner  office,  came  out  in  a  few  moments,  and 
said: 

"This  way,  Mr.  Howard." 

Howard  was  ushered  into  a  private  office.  As  he  went 
in  he  noticed  on  the  glass  door  the  word  "president."  A 
gentleman  well  up  in  years  rose  to  greet  him  when  he 
entered. 

"Mr.  Howard,  I  am  very  much  pleased  to  meet  you. 
Sit  down;  my  name  is  Dent." 

.'Oh  yes,  Mr.  Dent,  I  have  often  heard  Mr.  Small,  the 
man  who  represents  you  in  the  district  our  town  is  situated 
in,  speak  of  you." 

"Indeed,  I  hope  that  he  don't  talk  bad  of  me?" 
laughing. 

"No,  he  speaks  well  of  you.  He  says  you're  a  good 
business  man,  and  an  all  around  good  fellow." 

"I  think  I'll  have  to  raise  Small's  salary,"  smiling. 
"Well,  I'm  sorry  Small's  not  in  the  city  at  present,  or  I 
would  hand  you  over  to  his  care.  How  long  do  you  intend 
to  stay  with  us?" 

"Four  or  five  days." 

"Well,  then  we  will  not  have  much  time  to  lose," 
ringing  a  bell.  A  man  put  his  head  in  at  the  door.  "Is 
Mr.  Stubbs  in?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Tell  him  I  want  him." 

In  a  few  minutes  a  well  dressed  man  about  thirty-five 
years  of  age  entered  the  private  office. 


162  THE  SURPRISE 

"Stubbs,  shake  hands  with  Mr.  Matthew  Howard  of 

Howard  and  Stubbs  shook  hands, 

"Bye  the  bye,"  remarked  Dent,  "I  forgot  to  ask  you 
if  you  smoke,"  reaching  over  and  picking  up  a  box  of 
cigars.    Howard  took  one. 

' '  Stubbs,  take  a  cigar.  Now,  Mr.  Howard  is  only  going 
to  stay  a  few  days  with  us,  and,  lest  he  gets  lost  in  this 
great  big  city,  I  want  you  to  show  him  around.  Do  you 
ever  go  to  the  theatre,  Mr.  Howard?" 

"Well,  we  haven't  much  of  a  theatre  in  our  town," 
said  Howard,  smiling. 

"You'll  most  likely  want  to  go  one  night.  Stubbs  find 
out  what's  the  best  show  in  town  and  get  tickets  for  it, 
and  see  to  it  that  when  Mr.  Howard  goes  back  home  he 
will  have  a  good  impression  of  Dent  &  Company.  Have 
you  secured  a  hotel  yet,  Mr.  Howard?" 

"Yes,  sir.    I  left  my  case  at  the  Palmer  House." 

"Well,  I  have  put  you  in  good  hands,  Mr.  Howard,  and 
of  course  I'll  see  you  before  you  go." 

Howard  remarked  to  Stubbs,  when  he  got  out,  that 
Dent  was  a  pretty  fine  fellow. 

"An  all  around  sport,"  whispered  Stubbs. 

Stubbs  held  on  to  Howard  like  a  sticking  plaster.  Mat- 
thew had  little  opportunity  to  visit  any  establishment  that 
was  in  competition  with  the  firm  of  Dent  &  Company, 

Wherever  they  went,  Stubbs  paid  the  bills. 

Matt  Howard  remonstrated  about  the  third  time  there 
was  a  settlement. 

"Do  you  want  me  to  get  fired?"  said  Stubbs,  laughing 
at  him.  "Why,  you're  Mr.  Dent's  guest  while  you're  in 
Chicago,  and  I'm  his  proxy." 

Matt  laughed,  as  he  put  his  money  back  in  his  pocket. 


THE  SURPRISE  163 

Stubbs  seemed  to  be  very  well  acquainted  wherever  he 
went,  introducing  Howard  to  a  great  number  of  people. 
The  first  night  they  spent  at  Hooley's,  after  the  show  hav- 
ing supper  in  a  swell  restaurant. 

"This  is  a  pretty  gay  place,"  remarked  Howard,  as 
he  looked  at  the  showily  dressed  women  with  their  escorts. 

"That's  nothing  to  what  we  have  south  of  here,"  re- 
marked Stubbs.  "I  suppose  you've  heard  of  the  White 
Elephant?" 

"Yes,"  said  Matt,  laughing.  "I've  some  idea  what  you 
mean." 

"Well,  if  you'd  like  to  see  him  I'll  show  you  both  sides 
of  it." 

"Is  it  safe?"  inquired  Howard. 

"As  the  Bank  of  England,  if  I'm  with  you." 

"Well,  I  wouldn't  mind.  There's  no  one  knows  me 
here." 

"Then  all  right;  we'll  start  out  tomorrow  evening. 
But,  mind  you,  we  mayn't  get  home  till  morning." 

"If  I  get  home  all  right,  I  don't  care." 

"No  daiiger.  There  is  no  use  starting  out  until  after 
ten  o'clock.  I'll  call  for  you  at  the  hotel.  You  needn't 
bring  much  money  with  you,  not  that  you  need  fear  losing 
it." 

Stubbs  was  at  the  hotel  at  the  appointed  time. 

"Now,  Howard,  I'll  first  show  you  the  gilded  side.  It's 
only  a  little  distance  from  here,  so  we'll  walk."  Arriving 
in  front  of  a  large  building,  "This  place  is  kept  by  a  woman 
by  the  name  of  Blomgarten.    It's  one  of  the  swell  ranches." 

Howard  felt  some  embarrassment  as  he  went  up  the 
marble  steps,  and  entered  the  house.  The  negro  bowed  to 
Stubbs  as  he  entered. 

"The  madam  in  the  parlor?"  he  inquired. 


164  THE  SURPRISE 

"Yes,  sir." 

Stubbs  stopped,  and  looked  into  the  parlor.  Howard 
peered  over  his  shoulder. 

A  stout  woman  came  to  the  door.  *'How  are  you,  Mr. 
Stubbs;  aren't  you  coming  in?" 

"Yes,  this  is  a  young  friend  of  mine  from  the  country. 
Pm  jiist  showing  him  the  sights." 

"Well,  bring  him  in,  he's  welcome.  Do  you  want  me 
to  introduce  him  to  one  of  my  girls?" 

"Well,  that's  up  to  him,  but  send  us  a  bottle  up  to  the 
corner  there,"  pointing  to  the  back  parlor,  "and  send  us 
a  couple  of  your  fairies  to  help  us  drink  it." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Stubbs,  you  never  treat  my  girls  with  proper 
respect.  How's  the  boss?  He  don't  come  here  now  as 
often  as  he  did  before  the  accident,  the  dear  man." 

Stubbs  walked  toward  the  rear  parlor,  followed  by 
Howard,  Many  of  the  women  nodded  to  Stubbs,  who  smiled 
at  them. 

Matthew  Howard  had  never  seen  such  well-dressed 
women  in  his  life.  A  bottle  of  champagne  was  brought  and 
four  glasses.  In  a  brief  time,  madam  was  seen  bringing 
over  two  young  women.  "You  havn't  introduced  me  to 
your  friend  yet,  Mr.  Stubbs?" 

"Oh,  I  forgot.  Mr.  Jones,  of  Nebraska,  Madam  Blom- 
garten. ' ' 

Matt's  face  lit  up,  and  Madam  Blomgarten  bowed  and 
welcomed  him  to  her  "little  place,"  as  she  called  it.  "Miss 
Lemoine  La  Blanche,  Mr.  Jones;  Miss  Seraphina  Trudell, 
Mr.  Jones.  Now  I  hope  you  four  will  enjoy  yourselves." 
The  waiter  filled  the  glasses  and  stood  as  if  waiting  for  the 
money.  "Charge,"  said  Stubbs.  The  waiter  turned  and 
left. 

Miss  La  Blanche  began  a  conversation  with  Howard 


THE  SURPRISE  165 

as  to  how  long  he  would  stay  in  the  city.  The  front  parlors 
were  fairly  full  of  people.  The  piano  was  playing,  and  some 
were  waltzing. 

"Do  you  dance,  Mr.  Jones?"  inquired  the  young  lady. 

"No,  I  unfortunately  have  not  that  accomplishment." 
Stubbs  and  Miss  Trudell  were  talking  in  an  undertone  and 
the  name  of  Dent  and  Montague  cropped  out  occasionally. 
"I  was  awfully  sorry  for  poor  Clementina,"  remarked  Miss 
Trudell.     "She  was  a  nice  girl  when  she  came  here  first." 

"Well,  Jones,  we'll  have  to  be  moving,"  said  Stubbs, 
rising.    "We'll  probably  see  you  girls  later." 

Howard  began  to  think  Miss  La  Blanche  was  a  very 
sweet  girl.  He  was  somewhat  loath  to  leave  her,  but  fol- 
lowed Stubbs,  after  he  had  shaken  hands  with  the  mistress. 
"I  hope  you  will  call  again,  Mr.  Jones,"  said  the  young 
woman,  smiling  up  in  his  face. 

"Come  on,"  said  Stubbs. 

' '  What  was  your  hurry  ? ' '  inquired  Howard,  when  they 
got  on  the  outside. 

"I'm  going  to  show  you  through,"  replied  Stubbs.  "If 
you  want  to  come  back,  I've  no  doubt  you  will  find  your 
own  way."  Howard  laughed,  as  he  remarked,  "Well,  I 
thought  she  was  a  pretty  swell  girl." 

Stubbs  showed  him  through  two  other  places,  in  all  of 
which  the  guide  seemed  to  be  well  acquainted.  It  was  almost 
twelve  o'clock,  when  Stubbs  said: 

"Now  I'll  show  you  another  feature  of  the  same  kind 
of  life.  But,  as  we're  going  to  the  West  Side,  we'll  have 
to  get  a  cab  over  at  the  depot  here." 

Securing  a  cab,  he  told  the  driver  to  take  them  to 
Lake  and  Peoria  streets.  As  Howard  got  out  of  the  cab, 
he  looked  around  with  some  alarm  at  the  number  of  tough- 
looking  men  and  women,  some  negroes  mingling  with  white 


166  THE  SURPRISE 

people  standing  around  the  saloon  doors.  Both  men  and 
women  talking  in  loud  tones,  the  music  of  pianos  and 
stringed  instruments  could  be  heard  in  each  of  the  houses. 
"This  seems  a  pretty  tough  place,"  remarked  Howard,  who 
began  to  feel  a  little  nervous. 

"You  bet,"  said  Stubbs.  "A  man  don't  want  to  be  too 
gay  around  here."  They  walked  along  Peoria  street  till 
they  came  to  a  two-story  frame  building,  the  two  front 
windows  of  which  were  covered  with  white  blinds.  There 
was  a  face  up  against  the  glass  of  each,  a  glaring  light  over 
the  transom  showing  the  number  in  large  figures. 

"A  woman  by  the  name  of  Kate  Kanter  keeps  this 
place,"  whispered  Stubbs,  as  they  were  climbing  the  wooden 
steps  leading  to  where  the  lights  were.  The  noise  of  many 
people  talking  at  once  could  be  heard  amid  discordant 
laughter  and  the  thumping  of  a  piano. 

As  Howard  followed  Stubbs  into  the  house,  a  woman 
accosted  Howard  in  a  familiar  manner. 

"Hello,  young  sport.  "  Howard  followed  Stubbs  in 
without  seeming  to  notice  her  remark.  As  they  entered  the 
parlor,  Howard  noticed  that  a  number  of  the  women  were 
smoking  cigarettes,  others  were  sitting  on  fellows'  knees. 
The  place  looked  coarse  and  brutal  in  comparison  with  what 
he  had  seen  on  the  south  side.  Stubbs  walked  right  over  to 
where  there  was  an  unoccupied  table  and  sat  down.  Howard 
sat  with  his  back  to  the  company.  Two  women  came  im- 
mediately forward  and,  sitting  down  beside  them,  said, 
' '  Good  evening ! ' ' 

"How  do,  girls?"  said  Stubbs,  in  a  cheery  manner. 
"Take  a  drink  with  us?" 

"Sure!" 

"Well,  bring  us  a  couple  of  quart  bottles,"  said  Stubbs 
to  a  waiter,  who  was  standing  attention. 


THE  SURPRISE  167 

"That's  the  way  to  talk,"  said  one  of  the  girls,  who 
was  nearly  loaded  at  the  time.  ''Are  you  going  to  stay  all 
night?"  she  whispered  to  Howard,  who  began  to  feel  un- 
comfortable. 

"Well,  we're  going  to  look  around  a  bit  first,"  said 
Stubbs,  hearing  her  remark  to  Howard. 

"Oh,  just  as  you  please,"  she  rejoined. 

"Well,  don't  get  mad,"  said  Stubbs.  "Take  a  drink  of 
the  beer." 

"I  don't  care  for  beer." 

"Well,  take  something  else,  nothing  too  good  for  you." 

"Give  me  a  little  red  eye,"  said  the  girl,  addressing  the 
waiter.  "Here,  Josie,  take  some  of  this  beer,"  she  con- 
tinued, handing  one  of  the  bottles  over  to  a  party  that  sat 
at  an  adjoining  table. 

Howard  began  to  feel  angry  at  the  liberty  she  was 
taking. 

Stubbs  only  laughed,  as  if  it  was  a  good  joke. 

"Here's  Kate  herself,"  remarked  Stubbs,  as  a  tall,  raw- 
boned  woman  entered  the  room.  She  came  over  to  where 
Stubbs  was  sitting,  and,  tapping  him  on  the  shoulder,  said, 
"How  do,  old  sport!  I  haven't  seen  you  for  some  time. 
How's  tricks?" 

"Pretty  good.    Will  you  join  us?" 

"I  don't  mind  if  I  do.  Get  up!"  she  said  to  the  girl 
who  had  given  away  the  bottle  of  beer.     "You're  piped!" 

Howard  felt  some  relief,  as  the  girl  went  away. 

"What  are  you  going  to  have,  Kate,  a  little  wine?" 

"I  don't  mind  if  I  do.    Bring  me  a  little  port." 

"Bring  a  bottle,"  said  Stubbs.  When  the  port  was 
brought,  the  waiter  brought  four  glasses  with  it. 

"Pass  that  beer  over  to  that  other  table,"  said  Stubbs 
to  the  waiter,  as  half  of  the  bottle  beer  still  remained. 


168  THE  SURPRISE 

"I  won't  drink  anything  but  beer,"  remarked  Howard. 
Kate  filled  his  glass  and  handed  the  bottle  over  to  where 
some  other  girls  sat.  Four  glasses  of  port  wine  had  been 
filled  out.  Stubbs  took  one,  the  woman  who  sat  down  when 
they  first  came  in  took  another.  Kate,  seeing  a  spare  glass, 
turned  around  and  said,  "Here,  Clementina,  take  a  glass  o? 
wine." 

Howard  turned  his  head  to  see  who  the  newcomer  was 
At  sight  of  her  he  bounced  from  his  chair.  He  stared  at 
the  girl  as  if  she  were  a  ghost.  The  girl  dropped  her  glass 
from  her  liand;  it  'was  smashed  to  pieces  on  the  floor. 
Howard  continued  to  stare  at  the  woman,  who  staggered 
back,  and,  falling  in  a  seat,  bowed  her  head  between  her 
knees. 

"What's  up?"  said  Stubbs,  in  alarm. 

"I-thought-I-knew-her !"  gasped  Howard. 

"Maybe  you  did,"  said  Kate.  "Probably  she's  an  old 
flame,  but  that's  no  reason  you  should  break  the  glasses,  or 
upset  the  wine."  Howard  in  his  excitement  had  upset  the 
bottle  on  the  table.  "She's  there  at  your  service,  if  you 
want  her." 

"Yes,  I  want  her." 

"Sit  down!"  shouted  Stubbs. 

"No,  I'll  see  you  later." 

"Well,  do  you  want  me  to  wait  for  you?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"Come,  Clementina,  business,"  said  Kate. 

Matthew  Howard  went  over  to  where  the  woman  still 
sat  with  her  head  bowed  down.  He  caught  her  by  the  arm. 
She  rose  and  they  left  the  room  together. 

"Look  here,  Kate,"  said  Stubbs,  "that  young  fellow's 
a  friend  of  mine.    See  to  it  that  no  harm  befalls  him.    When 


THE  SURPRISE  169 

he  is  ready  to  leave,  order  a  cab,  and  send  one  of  your  men 
with  him,  if  need  be.    You  know  me,  I'll  foot  the  bill." 

"All  right,  Stubbs,  old  man.  I '11  take  care  of  him  Per- 
haps you  had  better  wait.    He'll  likely  be  down  soon." 

**No,  I'm  going.    You  do  as  I  tell  you." 


170  THE  STORY 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
THE  STORY. 

"When  Matthew  Howard  stood  facing  Martha  Hill  in  a 
room  on  the  second  floor  of  Kate  Ranter's  house,  neither 
could  speak  for  a  time.  Howard  gazed  with  pity  on  the 
girl  he  had  known  from  childhood,  as  she  stood  with  bowed 
head. 

"Matthew,"  she  said,  at  length,  looking  into  his 
agonized  face,  *'you  don't  want  me?" 

"No,  Martha,  there  was  a  time  when  I  did,  but  under 
conditions  sanctified  and  honorable  to  us  both." 

She  sat  down  and  began  to  cry.  He  rested  his  head  on 
his  hands.    He  seemed  bewildered.    At  last  he  inquired: 

"How  came  you  here,  Martha?    "We  thought  you  dead." 

"Would  I  were;  I  have  often  hoped  I  was." 

"Tell  me  what  terrible  misfortune  brought  you  to  this 
life,  to  this  wretched  place?" 

"It's  a  long  and  painful  story,  Matthew.  While  it  is 
long  since  I  have  been  shocked  at  the  recital  of  any  story, 
no  matter  how  vicious,  I  still  hate  to  tell  you." 

"Yes,  but  you  must  have  some  explanation  to  make — 

some  reason  to  explain.    When  you  left  B we  all  thought 

you  a  pure  girl.  Surely  you  didn't  come  to  Chicago  bent 
on  following  a  life  of  shame?" 

"No,  Matthew,  I  had  no  such  thought.  My  only  desire 
was  to  seek  an  honorable  calling,  a  situation  by  which  I 
could  help  my  parents.    But  I  was  wronged,  trapped,  sold 


THE  STORY  171 

into  slavery,  as  are  thousands  of  other  innocent  girls  who 
come  to  this  more  than  wicked  city  to  seek  employment." 

**How  could  it  occur  to  you,  you  were  an  intelligent  girl 
— a  woman  for  your  years?" 

"I  will  tell  you  if  you'll  promise  to  never  let  my  people 
know.  They  believe  me  dead ;  'tis  well.  My  coming  to  life 
would  only  open  the  wounds  afresh — to  know  the  life  I  lead 
would  be  worse  than  death  to  them." 

"Martha,"  he  said,  rising  and  going  toward  her,  "I 
can  make  you  no  such  promise.  You  must  leave  this  place. 
It  would  kill  me  to  think  you  would  remain  here  an  hour 
longer. ' ' 

**Ah,  no,  Matt,  I  am  here  to  stay,  until  turned  out  to 
find  a  place  still  more  degraded,  where  women  are  more 
unnatural,  more  abandoned,  and  where  they  resort  to  drugs 
to  blunt  the  last  semblance  of  their  womanhood." 

"Horrible!    Can  any  place  be  Avorse  than  this?" 

She  nodded  her  head. 

"You  remember  the  day  you  left  us,  Martha,  when  we 
set  you  on  the  train,  how  the  girls,  your  companions,  and  I 
with  your  brother  and  other  young  men,  wished  you  suc- 
cess and  a  speedy  return?" 

"Yes,  I  will  not  forget  it."  She  smiled.  "When  Alice 
Rainer  said,  'Why  don't  you  kiss  her.  Matt?'  when  you 
stood  back  abashed.  Matt,  you  don't  know  how  much  I 
would  have  liked  you  to  kiss  me  that  day."  Her  tears  be- 
gan to  flow  at  the  thought.  He  wiped  his  eyes,  and,  going 
toward  her,  said,  "Martha,  though  degraded  as  you  seem 
and,  as  I  am  afraid,  you  are,  I  will  kiss  you  for  the  old 
love.  If  I  had  known  then,  as  you  lead  me  to  believe  now, 
the  feelings  you  had  for  me  I  would  have  taken  you  in  my 
arms  and  held  you  till  the  train  went  on  its  way.  But  we 
were  both  young;  I  was  shy,  and  you  were  reserved." 


172  THE  STORY 

"True,  Matt,  I  was  foolish;  you  were  in  good  circum- 
stances. My  people  were  poor:  that's  one  of  the  reasons  I 
was  desirous  to  get  away  to  show  you  and  the  rest  of  the 
people,  our  friends,  that  Martha  Hill  could  win  her  way. 
But  it's  too  late  now  to  talk  of  those  things." 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door. 

"Hush!"  she  waved  her  hand  to  Matthew,  as  she  went 
to  the  door.    "What  is  it,  Lulu?" 

"Kate  wants  to  know  if  you  two  are  going  to  occupy 
this  room  all  night?" 

"Wait  a  moment,  Lulu."  Martha  Hill  closed  the  door. 
"Matthew,  you  must  be  going;  the  woman  below  thinks  I 
have  wasted  too  much  time  with  you  already." 

"I'll  not  leave  here  till  I  hear  your  story." 

* '  Come  now,  do !  You  don 't  want  to  stay  with  me ;  you 
would  despise  yourself  after,  and  I  still  think  too  much  of 
you,  Matthew."  She  placed  her  hands  upon  his  shoulders 
and  looked  entreatingly  into  his  face. 

"Are  you  going  to  keep  me  here  all  night?"  said  the 
girl  at  the  door,  impatiently. 

"Come  now,  Matthew,  like  a  good  fellow,  let  us  go. 
Give  me  a  dollar  to  give  her." 

"No,  I  am  going  to  stay  here  till  you  tell  me  how  it 
occurred." 

"I  am  afraid  to  let  you  stay  longer,  Matthew  love,  I 
cannot  trust  myself." 

"You  need  not  fear  me,  but  go  I  won't.  How  much 
does  she  want  for  her  room?" 

"She  will  expect  five  dollars." 

"Then  give  it  to  her,"  pulling  out  a  roll  of  bills. 

"No,  I  am  afraid.    Let  us  go." 


THE  STORY  173 

Howard  went  and  opened  the  door.  ' '  Tell  your  mistress 
we're  going  to  stay  all  night." 

"Well,  she'll  want  the  five.  Tell  Clem  to  come  to  the 
door  till  I  talk  to  her." 

''Here,  give  the  mistress  this,"  thrusting  the  five-dollar 
bill  into  the  girl's  hand. 

''You're  the  right  kind  of  a  sport,"  said  the  girl  to  him, 
as  she  left. 

Martha  Hill  had  to  succumb  to  Matthew  Howard's 
resolute  manner. 

"Now,  Martha,  you  know  I'm  interested  in  you  and 
have  only  one  object  in  view,  that  is  to  serve  you,  so,  if  you 
ever  cared  for  me,  tell  me  the  truth,  how  came  you  to  fall 
so  low?    Is  this  tne  fii-st  place  ever  you  were  in?" 

"No,  Matt,  the  girls  who  come  here  as  a  rule  are  the 
cast-offs  from  the  more  stylish  places.  Few  girls  enter  on 
a  life  of  shame  here  before  they  come  to  places  like  this. 
They  are  beyond  redemption.  I  was  first  sold  to  a  place 
down  town  kept  by  a  woman  of  influence,  against  whose 
word  her  victims  have  no  show.    Her  name  is  Blomgarten," 

"I  was  in  there  tonight,"  said  Matt  with  a  start. 

She  looked  hard  at  him  for  a  moment.  "How  came  you 
to  go  into  such  places?" 

To  in  part  justify  himself  he  had  to  explain.  At  the 
mention  of  the  name  of  Dent  &  Company  she  became 
interested. 

"I  know  him  well." 

"Now,  Martha,"  he  said,  "before  you  begin  your  story 
would  you  like  something  to  eat — some  refreshments?" 

"I  am  not  strong,  Matt,  and  I  could  do  with  something." 

"Can  you  send  out  for  anything?" 

"Yes,  I'll  call  the  man." 

An  unfortunate-looking  fellow  appearing,  Matt  ordered 


174  THE  STORY 

him  to  go  out  and  bring  a  nice  supper  for  two,  and  a  bottle 
of  wine.  "And  there's  a  dollar  for  yourself."  When  he 
went  down  he  informed  the  mistress  of  the  house  that  Clem 
had  a  live  one  upstairs. 

As  the  two  sat  and  ate,  Martha  Hill's  countenance 
seemed  to  undergo  a  change. 

"Matt,"  she  said,  "this  is  the  only  happy  moment  I 
have  had,  since  I  left  home." 

Matthew  Howard  could  see  the  ravages  that  the  life 
she  led  had  told  on  her.  He  was  grieved  to  the  heart.  He 
first  told  her  of  the  efforts  that  had  been  made  to  find  her, 
of  the  trips  her  brother  had  made  to  Chicago,  and  of  his 
futile  search.  He  told  how  they  had  given  her  up  as  dead, 
and  of  her  enlarged  picture  that  hung  in  the  parlor,  of  the 
present  condition  of  her  family,  and  of  Bob's  advance  in 
his  trade.  She  wept  profusely,  as  he  told  the  story.  At 
its  conclusion,  he  said,  "Now,  Martha,  let  me  hear  from 
you." 

"Well,  if  I  must,  I  will,"  she  said.  She  told  him  of  her 
standing  on  the  corner,  of  the  very  day  she  left  her  home, 
of  the  affable  young  man  that  accosted  her,  and  the  con- 
sequences, how  she  had  been  drugged,  then  taken  to  and 
confined  in  the  attic,  all  her  clothing  taken  from  her;  how 
she  had  been  ill-used  and  brutalized,  until,  seeing  no  hope 
of  escape,  she  had  to  succumb.  Matthew  Howard  grew  pale 
and  sick  at  heart,  as  she  told  the  frightful  narrative. 

"I  am  telling  you  the  God's  truth,  Matt.  I  am  hiding 
nothing  from  you." 

"Who  was  this  young  fellow  that  accosted  you  on  the 
street?" 

"He  called  himself  George  Washington,  was  well 
dressed,  and  appeared  to  be  respectable,  but  he  was  a  decoy 
— a  cadet  they  call  them — whose  mission  was  to  entrap  girls 


THE  STORY  175 

for  houses  of  infamy.  I  never  saw  him  from  the  time  he 
delivered  me  unconscious  to  Sadie  Blomgarten  until  some 
months  after.  It  was  at  a  ball.  I  recognized  him  the  moment 
I  saw  him  and,  as  he  passed  the  box  we  M^ere  in,  I  dashed 
the  wine  I  held  in  my  hand  into  his  face.  I  learned  his  name 
and  calling.  He  was  one  of  the  most  expert  of  white  slavers, 
a  Jew,  his  real  name  was  Ike  Rosenthal." 

"Does  he  still  live  in  Chicago?" 

"Yes,  and  is  still  practicing  his  nefarious  profession." 

"But  why  didn't  you  appeal  to  the  authorities  when 
you  first  got  out?"  he  inquired  eagerly. 

"Authorities!"  she  repeated.  "Why,  they  would  laugh 
at  me,  as  they  have  done  at  other  girls.  Sadie  Blomgarten 
would  produce  a  dozen  witnesses  who  could  swear  that  I 
came  there  of  my  own  free  will  and  brought  a  fellow  with 
me,  the  first  night  I  entered  her  place,  and  that  I  was  of 
age,  so  that  she  was  in  no  way  responsible." 

"Well,  why  didn't  you  come  home?" 

"Matthew,  how  could  I  face  my  people  with  such  a 
story,  after  I  had  spent  weeks  in  a  brothel.  I  couldn't  do  it, 
so  hoped  they  would  forget  me.  After  three  years  I  took  ill, 
contracted  a  disease,  and  they  took  me  to  a  hospital.  When 
I  got  well,  I  resolved  to  lead  a  good  life,  determined  to  seek 
a  situation,  I  didn't  care  at  what,  so  long  as  it  was  honest. 
I  went  to  Blomgarten 's  and  took  what  things  I  had  there, 
and  sold  them  for  less  than  one-tenth  of  what  I  had  paid 
for  them,  and  then  secured  a  room  on  Halsted  street.  On 
coming  out  of  the  hospital,  in  which  I  had  spent  four  months, 
I  was  too  weak  to  work,  so  I  laid  up  for  a  couple  of  weeks, 
and  then  went  out  to  seek  employment.  Day  after  day  I 
searched  in  vain.  You  see  I  had  neither  references  nor 
experience.  Nor  did  I  appear  robust.  At  length  my  money 
was  exhausted.    The  woman  from  whom  I  rented  the  room 


176  THE  STORY 

was  going  to  turn  me  out,  because  I  could  not  pay  her  the 
rent.  With  nothing  to  eat,  driven  to  disperation,  one  night 
I  went  on  the  street,  willing  to  beg  or  sell  myself.  There 
was  no  other  recourse.  It  happened  to  be  the  night  of  the 
Round-Up. ' ' 

** What's  that?''  inquired  Matthew,  eagerly. 

"The  night  the  male  prostitutes  want  to  levy  on  the 
girls'  wages  of  sin." 

Matthew  Howard  was  breathless,  as  she  went  on  to 
describe  her  arrest,  the  scenes  in  the  cells  and  court  room, 
the  threat  of  the  policeman  and  the  action  of  the  bonds- 
man, who  gave  her  the  alternative  of  the  jail  or  the  brothel. 
**I  had  lost  all  hope,"  said  the  disconsolate  girl.  ''That's 
how  I  came  here.  Dent  was  a  constant  visitor  of  mine  at 
Blomgarten's,  I  got  him  into  trouble  that  led  his  wife  to 
divorce  him.  Now  I  have  told  you  all.  You  see  I  have  been 
a  victim,  a  slave  sold  and  bought  in  the  market,  just  as 
thousands  of  other  girls  are  in  this  city  of  Sodom." 

"Martha,,  it's  a  horrible  story.  How  can  such  things 
take  place  in  a  Christian  country?" 

It  was  long  past  three  in  the  morning  when  Martha  Hill 
had  concluded  her  story. 

"I  will  have  to  go,"  he  said. 

"No,  Matt,  you  can't  go  tonight.  Those  corners  are 
too  dangerous  for  a  stranger  to  go  abroad.  You  must  sleep 
here  in  that  bed,  but  not  with  me." 

"I  think  I  could  get  to  my  hotel  all  right." 

"Maybe  so,  but  I  think  too  much  of  you  to  take  the 
risk.  You  might  be  watched  and  followed  as  you  leave  this 
.house.  Your  very  sociability  with  me,  your  appearance 
would  lead  the  prowlers  to  track  your  steps.  While  with 
me  here  you  are  safe.    If  I  had  only  the  luck  to  have  stayed 


THE  STORY  177 

with  you  in  our  own  sweet  town  in  Michigan,  I  too  would 
have  been  safe.  But  it  hadn't  to  be,  so  let  it  rest,  Matt. 
We  cannot  bring  back  the  past;  you  had  better  retire." 
She  arose,  as  if  to  leave  the  room. 

"No!  Sit  down,  Martha,  and  let  us  talk.  I  am  not 
tired.    Can  we  get  another  bottle  of  wine  ? ' ' 

"Yes,  the  saloons  are  open  all  night  around  here.  They 
are  the  refuge  of  all  the  down  and  outs,  the  vile  and  the 
vicious.  It  is  not  for  me  to  moralize,  but  my  downfall  com- 
menced in  one  of  them,  as  did  that  of  thousands  of  girls 
before  me.  The  young  single  woman  w^ho  enters  a  saloon 
to  drink  with  a  man  crosses  the  danger  line,  for  often,  yes 
frequently,  the  path  through  the  saloon  is  the  highway  to 
the  brothel.  I'll  go  call  the  man  and  you  can  send  him  for 
the  wine.  I  am  used  to  staying  up  at  night  and  sleeping  in 
the  day." 

In  a  brief  time  an  old  derelict  arrived.  Howard  gave 
him  the  money,  instructing  him  to  bring  a  bottle  of  the  best 
port,  which  he  soon  furnished. 

Under  the  influence  of  the  wine,  Martha  Hill  became 
voluble,  and  reminded  Matt  of  their  early  childhood  days 
and  the  pranks  they  used  to  play. 

"Matt,"  she  said,  her  eyes  sparkling,  "do  you  remem- 
ber how  me  and  Rachel  used  to  hurl  tufts  of  grass  and  clay 
at  ye  both  while  you'd  be  plodding  in  the  dear  old  creek 
and  how  you  and  Bob  used  to  chase  us?" 

"I  do,  Martha."    They  both  laughed  at  the  recital. 

"And,  Matt,  do  you  remember  the  times  I  used  to  stay 
a  night  at  your  house,  and  how  I  and  Rachel,  in  our  night 
dresses,  would  get  up  and  go  to  your  room,  and  if  you  were 
sleeping  hurl  the  pillows  at  you  till  you  were  real  mad,  and 
then  you'd  get  up  and  some  times  not  even  take  time  to  put 


178  THE  STORY 

your  pants  on,  and  chase  us  back  to  bed?"  She  laughed  at 
her  own  recital. 

"Sure  I  do,  Martha.  And  do  you  remember  the  flailing 
I  used  to  give  you  both  with  the  pillows  you  had  thrown  at 
me  until  you  both  had  to  shout  for  mercy  ? " 

"Ah,  Matt,  them  were  happy  days,  weren't  they?'* 

"Yes,  Martha,  we  had  no  trouble  then." 

And  thus  they  talked  for  hours,  until  the  gray  dawn 
appeared  in  the  eastern  horizon. 

"Martha,  do  you  ever  sing  now?" 

"No.  I  have  never  sung  a  note,  since  I  left  home.  I 
hardly  think  I  could  sing  now." 

"Suppose  you  try,  if  it's  not  too  late." 

"It  is  never  late  here,  Matt,  but  I'm  afraid  to  try.  I 
know  I'd  fail." 

"Come,  darling,  sing  me  one  of  your  old  songs.  You 
remember  the  old  Irish  song  your  father  and  all  of  us  liked 
so  well?" 

"I  don't  remember  which  one  you  mean." 

"It  was  one  of  Moore's;  it  was — let  me  see — it  com- 
mences something  like  this,  Silent,  oh  Moyle, — " 

"Yes,  now  I  know  the  one  you  mean.  Let  me  see,  per- 
haps I  have  forgotten  it."  She  hummed  to  herself  for  a 
few  moments,  and  then  rising  said,  "I  will  sing  for  you. 
Matt,"  cleared  her  throat  and  began: 

THE  SONG  OF  FIONNUALA. 

Silent,  oh  Moyle,  be  the  roar  of  thy  water. 

Break  not,  ye  breezes,  your  chain  of  repose. 
While,  murmuring  mournfully,  Lir's  lonely  daughter 

Tells  to  the  night-star  her  tale  of  woes. 
When  shall  the  swan,  her  death-note  singing, 

Sleep,  with  wings  in  darkness  furl'd? 
When  will  heaven,  its  sweet  bell  ringing, 

Call  my  spirit  from  this  stormy  world? 


The  Swan  Song 


THE  STORY  179 

Sadly,  oh  Moyle,  to  thy  winter-wave  weeping, 

Fate  bids  me  languish  long  ages  away; 
Yet  still  in  her  darkness  doth  Erin  lie  sleeping 

Still  doth  the  pure  light  its  dawning  delay. 
When  will  that  day-star,  mildly  springing, 

Warm  our  isle  with  peace  and  love? 
When  will  heaven,  its  sweet  bell  ringing, 

Call  my  spirit  to  the  fields  above? 

It  would  seem  as  if  she  was  inspired.  Her  voice  rang 
out  loud,  clear  and  melodious ;  her  heart  and  soul  seemed  in 
the  song,  and  her  effort  to  please. 

There  was  a  commotion  down  on  the  first  floor.  Foot- 
steps could  be  heard  stealthily  climbing  the  stairs  so  as  to 
get  nearer  without  disturbing  the  singer.  At  the  conclu- 
sion of  the  song  there  was  loud  clapping,  with  some  husky 
voices  shouting,  "Bravo!  Bravo!  Give  us  another." 

Martha  Hill  sat  down,  and,  resting  her  head  upon  her 
hands,  wept  bitterly.  Those  who  had  climbed  the  stairs, 
awed  and  impressed  by  the  spark  of  kindly  feeling  still 
left  in  their  breasts,  felt  commiseration  for  the  unfortunate 
girl,  whose  sobbing  was  plainly  audible,  so  silently  retraced 
their  steps  without  any  further  demonstration. 

Matthew  tried  his  best  to  console  her,  spoke  to  her  in 
endearing  terms,  but  she  was  irreconcilable.  At  length,  ris- 
ing and  wiping  her  eyes,  she  said,  ' '  Matthew,  I  must  bring 
you  clean  sheets  for  that  bed;  you  see  it  has  been  laid  on." 

Matt  himself,  harrowed  by  the  painful  scene,  raised  no 
objection  to  her  leaving  the  room.  His  heart  was  too  full 
for  utterance. 

Blartha  went  out  and  returning  with  clean  bed  clothes 
made  the  bed.  "Now  I  will  go  outside  until  you  strip  your- 
self.   You'll  want  some  rest.     I  am  used  to  sitting  up." 

When  Martha  re-entered  the  room  Matt  Howard  was 
in  bed. 


180  THE  STORY 

''It's  not  right  for  me,  Martha,  to  put  you  out  of  your 
bed.  You  might  lie  alongside  here — ^you  need  have  no  fear 
of  me." 

"No,  Matt,  I'm  afraid  of  myself." 

She  left  the  room.  After  a  time  she  stole  silently  into 
the  room  where  he  lay  and  going  over  to  the  bed  gazed  on 
him  for  a  few  moments  and,  placing  her  lips  to  his,  stole 
silently  out. 

When  he  awoke,  it  was  late  in  the  morning. 

Martha  Hill  lay  stretched,  sound  asleep,  on  the  rug  in 
front  of  the  door,  with  all  her  clothes  on. 

He  arose  and  dressed,  while  she  still  slept,  then  went 
over  to  where  she  lay.  She  was  dreaming.  He  distinctly 
heard  her  mutter  names  of  some  of  those  she  knew  in  her 
early  days.  It  seemed  as  if  her  imaginings  were  pleasant, 
as  she  frequently  smiled.  At  length  he  woke  her,  she  gazed 
for  a  moment  at  him  and  then  at  the  dismal  surroundings. 
She  arose,  and  the  same  care-worn  look  she  had  the  night 
before  settled  on  her  countenance.  "I  see  you  are  ready  to 
go.  Matt?"  was  her  first  remark. 

*'No,  Martha,  I  have  still  some  more  to  learn,  and  would 
renew  my  appeal  to  you  to  leave  this  place.    You  need  not 

go  back  to  B for  a  time.    I  will  find  you  a  home  for  a 

week,  a  month,  for  a  year,  till  you  become  yourself  again, 
and  in  the  meantime  we  can  devise  some  plan  or  some  reason 
for  your  long  absence,  after  which  you  may  renew  the  old 
life  and  be  happy  again." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"Come,  come,  Martha;  if  you  ever  loved  me,  listen  to 
my  appeal.  Come  with  me,  I  am  now  well  off  and  can  amply 
provide  for  you.  The  door  is  open  to  you,  you  are  still 
young  and  can  become  a  good  woman.  You  used  to  be 
religious,  well  up  in  the  scriptures,  and  you  know  the  story 


THE  STORY  181 

of  the  Magdalene.    Come  now,  don't  refuse  me."    He  took 
her  in  his  arms. 

She  shook  her  head.    "Matt,  never  let  anyone  know  you 

saw  me,"  she  said,  entreatingly. 

"No,  Martha,  I  will  never  make  such  a  promise." 
"Then,  Matthew,  it  is  my  turn  to  reason  with  you.    My 

friends  believe  me  dead.     It  would  be  cruel  to  undeceive 

them,  the  wounds  of  my  loss  are  already  partly  healed; 

why  open  them  anew  in  a  more  aggravated  form?     Come, 

kiss  me  and  go."    She  led  him  toward  the  door  of  the  room. 

He  followed  her  down  the  stairs,  reaching  the  outer  door, 

where  they  stood. 

"Come,  Martha,"  was  his  last  appeal. 

She  shook  her  head.    "Promise  you  will  forget  me." 

"No,  Martha,  I  cannot  do  that.    Let  me  give  you  some 

money. ' ' 

She  held  up  her  hands  in  protest.    He  had  a  bill  in  his 

palm.    He  shoved  it  between  her  dress  and  her  breast,  turned 

and  was  gone.    She  lingered  on  the  steps  till  she  saw  him 

turn  the  corner  of  Lake  street. 


182  THE  OATH 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
THE  OATH. 

Bob  Hill  arrived  about  7 :30  p.  m.  at  the  store.  He 
went  over  to  where  Rachel  was  standing  behind  the  cashier's 
desk, 

"Matt  get  back?" 

"Yes,  Bob,  but  he's  up  in  his  room.  It  don't  seem  as 
if  he  had  enjoyed  his  trip." 

"Probably  he  bought  too  much  goods,"  said  Bob, 
laughing,  "or  some  of  those  sharp  business  men  in  Chicago 
have  stuck  him." 

"Oh,  I  don't  believe  that.  Matthew  generally  knows 
what  he  wants,  and,  as  for  buying  too  much,  you  know  Matt 
has  no  limit  when  the  price  is  right." 

"Well,  I  think  I'll  go  up  and  see  him.  Likely  he  ran 
around  too  much  when  he  was  away." 

In  answer  to  Robert  Hill's  knock  on  Matthew  Howard's 
door  there  was  the  invitation  to  come  in.  Howard  knew  in 
advance  who  it  was — his  closest  and  warmest  friend,  since 
as  boys  they  had  played  marbles  together.  As  soon  as 
Robert  entered  the  room  and  looked  at  Matthew,  he  saw 
something  had  gone  wrong.  He  was  deathly  pale,  like  a 
sick  man. 

"What's  up?"  said  Bob,  looking  at  him.  "One  would 
think  you  had  just  seen  a  ghost." 

"So  I  have.  Bob.  A  ghost,  the  sight  of  whom  I'll  never 
be  able  to  banish  from  my  mind," 


THE  OATH  183 

"Oh,  don't  take  it  that  bad.  Business  gone  wrong,  or 
were  you  robbed  while  away?" 

"No!  no!    A  hundred  times  worse  than  that." 

"Well,  what  is  it,  if  it's  not  a  secret?"  taking  a  seat. 

"I  saw  Martha  while  I  was  away." 

"What!"  bouncing  from  his  chair.  "My  sister  that 
we  all  thought  dead?" 

"Yes,  Bob,  and  worse  than  dead." 

"  No !  no !  Don 't  say  that.  Surely  this  is  some  horrible 
mistake  of  yours — some  hallucination." 

"Would  to  heaven  it  were,  but  it's  too  true.  I  saw 
her  and  spoke  to  her;  talked  with  her  about  you  and  her 
people." 

"My  God!     Don't  keep  me  in  suspense.     Where?" 

"Sit  down  and  compose  yourself  first.  Wait  till  I 
close  the  door." 

"Tell  me;  tell  me  quick." 

"Well,  I  must  begin  to  tell  you  how  first.  You  know 
I  deal  extensively  with  one  firm  in  Chicago.  They  consider 
me  a  very  good  customer.  When  I  called  at  their  place 
I  was  introduced  to  the  head  of  the  firm  —  a  Mr.  Dent. 
He  treated  me  very  sociably,  and  introduced  me  to  a  man 
by  the  name  of  Stubbs,  telling  him  that  he  had  to  show  me 
around  and  entertain  me  during  my  stay  in  the  city.  The 
first  night  we  went  to  the  theatre.  The  following  day  I  did 
some  business.  Stubbs  made  arrangements  to  call  for  me 
at  my  hotel  in  the  evening,  and,  while  we  were  smoking, 
he  asked  me  if  I  cared  to  go  around  and  see  the  sights.  I 
said  I  didn't  care  where  I  went.  It  was  up  to  him.  He 
said,  'You  have  heard,  no  doubt,  a  good  deal  of  the  White 
Elephant  we  have  here?'  At  first  I  didn't  know  exactly 
what  he  meant.  He  said,  'The  red  light  district,  the  place 
where  the  women  are. '    I  asked  him  if  there  was  any  danger. 


184  THE  OATH 

'Not  while  you're  with  me.'  So  I  was  a  little  curious  and 
consented  to  go.  The  first  place  he  took  me  to  was  like  a 
palace.  A  woman  by  the  name  of  Sadie  Blomgarten  runs  it. 
"When  we  went  into  the  parlor,  I  saw  about  twenty  of  the 
best  dressed  women  I  ever  saw  in  my  life — some  of  them 
were  mere  girls.  Stubbs  seemed  to  be  well  known  to  the 
proprietress.  He  introduced  me  to  her  as  Mr.  Jones  of 
Nebraska.  After  Stubbs  had  ordered  a  bottle  of  champagne, 
she  went  over  and  brought  two  swell  girls,  who  sat  down 
beside  us  and  helped  us  to  drink  the  wine.  We  stayed  there 
a  few  minutes,  watching  them  dancing  and  drinking.  There 
were  quite  a  number  of  men  in  the  place.  Then  Stubbs  said, 
'Let  us  be  going,'  and  we  went  into  two  other  places  of  a 
similar  character," 

"And  you  found  Martha  in  one  of  them!"  exclaimed 
Hill  with  bated  breath. 

"No,  Bob;  have  patience.  "When  we  came  out  of  the 
third  place  we'd  been  in,  he  said,  'Now  while  we're  out 
I'll  show  you  the  other  side  of  it.'  So  he  hired  a  cab, 
and  we  drove  over  to  the  west  side  of  the  city  and  stopped 
at  the  corner  of  Lake  and  Peoria  streets,  a  miserable 
looking  locality,  where  any  number  of  tough-looking 
saloons  abound  and  colored  people,  men  and  women  were 
drinking.  Some  kind  of  music  was  heard  in  every  one  of 
them.  "We  left  the  cab  at  the  corner,  and  walked  a  little 
way  up  Peoria  street.  Nearly  every  house  was  lit  up.  We 
stopped  in  front  of  a  two-story  frame,  where  a  flight  of 
steps  led  up  to  the  front  door.  As  I  followed  Stubbs  up 
I  could  hear  the  noise  of  a  lot  of  women  jabbering  away 
to  one  another.  I  felt  like  turning  back,  but  followed  my 
guide  into  the  front  room,  where  a  piano  was  being  played. 
The  first  sight  of  the  place  shocked  me.  There  were  girls 
in  short  skirts,  drinking  and  smoking.    Some  of  them  were 


THE  OATH  185 

sitting  on  fellows'  knees.  I  felt  disgusted.  We  walked 
through  to  the  back  end  of  the  place.  It  was  like  two  rooms. 
We  sat  down  at  a  table,  I  with  my  face  to  the  wall.  I  felt 
ashamed  to  look  at  the  depraved  characters,  and  wished 
I  was  out.  Two  of  the  women  came  and  sat  beside  us. 
Stubbs  ordered  two  quarts  of  beer.  When  it  came,  a  brazen 
little  strumpet,  who  would  persist  in  talking  to  me,  said 
she  wouldn't  drink  beer.  She  was  near  drunk  at  the  time. 
So  Stubbs  told  her  she  could  have  what  she  liked.  She 
ordered  a  cocktail.  Just  then  a  big,  coarse,  raw-boned 
woman  came  toward  us.  'This  is  Kate  Kanter,  who  keeps 
the  house,'  he  whispered  to  me.  Stubbs  asked  her  what 
she'd  take.  She  said  she  didn't  feel  well;  if  she  took  any- 
thing she'd  take  a  glass  of  port  wine.  'Bring  us  a  bottle 
of  port,'  said  Stubbs  to  the  waiter.  There  were  just  four 
chairs  at  the  table,  and  the  Kanter  woman  was  still  stand- 
ing. She  noticed  the  impudent  little  trash  that  would  keep 
chinning  to  me.  'Get  up,'  she  says,  'you're  piped!'  So  she 
chased  her  and  sat  down  on  the  seat.  When  the  waiter 
came  back  with  the  port  he  brought  four  glasses  and  filled 
them.  I  said  I  preferred  the  beer,  so  the  Kanter  woman 
picked  up  the  extra  glass  and  said,  'Here,  Clem,  take  a 
glass  of  wine.'  I  just  turned  my  head  to  see  whom  she  was 
addressing,  and  there  stood  Martha  within  three  feet  of  me. 
I  was  paralyzed  for  a  second.  I  jumped  up,  nearly  upset- 
ting the  table.  I  couldn't  believe  my  eyes  for  a  moment; 
I  felt  my  hair  rising  on  my  head.  I\Iartha  recognized  me 
the  moment  I  stood  up.  She  was  in  the  act  of  raising  the 
glass  to  her  mouth.  It  fell  from  her  hand,  and  was  shat- 
tered to  pieces  on  the  floor.  She  reeled  back  and  fell  into 
a  seat  that  goes  around  the  room.  She  held  her  head  down. 
The  Kanter  woman  got  mad,  'Never  mind,  Kate,'  said 
Stubbs,  'it's  all  right.     I'll  pay  for  everything.'    Then  she 


186  THE  OATH 

muttered  something  about  an  old  flame,  and  breaking  the 
glasses.  As  she  turned  to  leave  us,  her  attention  was  at- 
tracted to  a  number  of  young  men  who  were  sitting  at  a 
table  talking.  'Are  you  fellows  going  to  waste  your  time 
here  all  night?  Why  don't  you  take  some  of  the  girls  up- 
stairs?' A  sudden  thought  struck  me.  'I'll  take  this  one,' 
I  said,  going  over  to  where  Martha  was  still  holding  her 
head  down,  and  took  her  by  the  arm.  She  stood  up,  turn- 
ing her  head  from  me.  Stubbs  tried  to  stop  me.  'Come  on!* 
he  said. 

*  *  '  No  !     I  'm  going  with  this  girl. ' 

"  'Will  I  wait  for  you?' 

"  'No,  I'll  find  my  own  way.'  " 

"My  God!"  exclaimed  Hill.  "Who  would  have  ever 
thought  my  sister  would  have  turned  out  like  that?"  He 
looked  toward  the  ceiling  and  then  bowed  his  head  in  agony, 
the  tears  streaming  from  his  eyes. 

"Bob,"  said  Matthew,  rising,  "don't  think  I  had  any 
improper  desire  for  your  sister,  no  more  than  I  would  have 
for  my  own." 

"  I  believe  you.  Matt,"  said  Hill,  between  his  tears. 

"But  I  knew  it  was  the  only  opportunity  I  would  have 
to  talk  to  her."  Howard  paused  to  give  Hill  some  time  to 
compose  himself. 

"Go  on!" 

"Well,  when  we  went  up  into  the  room,  a  miserable 
looking  place,  the  bed  all  topsy-turvy,  a  couple  of  chairs 
and  a  little  table  with  a  candle  on  it,  a  couple  of  wash  basins 
with  dirty  water  standing  in  them.  I  felt  sick  at  heart. 
We  both  sat  down.  She  commenced  to  cry,  and  so  did  I — 
I  couldn't  help  it.  After  a  time,  I  asked  her  what  terrible 
misfortune  brought  her  to  such  a  place.  At  first  she'd  tell 
me  nothing;  begged  of  me  not  to  ask  her.     I  appealed  to 


THE  OATH  187 

her,  she  trembled  like  an  aspen.  For  half  an  hour  I  im- 
plored her  to  tell  me.  'You  must  leave  this  place,'  I  said 
to  her.  She  shook  her  head.  I  couldn't  get  a  thing  out  of 
her.  She  begged  me  to  go  and  leave  her;  to  forget  I  had 
ever  seen  her.  Well,  after  we  had  been  in  the  room  for, 
maybe,  forty  minutes,  a  young  woman  knocked  at  the  door 
and  said  the  missus  wanted  to  know  how  long  we  were 
going  to  occupy  the  room. 

"Martha  asked  me  to  give  her  a  dollar  for  the  woman 
and  go.  I  said  I  wouldn't;  I  was  going  to  stay  till  she  told 
me  her  story.  She  became  frightfully  nervous,  but  I  was 
determined.  The  girl  still  stood  outside  the  door  to  await 
an  answer.  Martha  again  appealed  to  me.  'You  don't 
want  me,  Matthew?'  she  said,  looking  up  entreatingly  into 
my  face,  'No,'  I  said,  'but  I'll  stay  till  you  tell  me  your 
trouble.'  'Then  the  woman  will  want  five  dollars  if  we 
occupy  this  room  all  night.'  I  went  outside  and  gave  the 
girl,  who  was  waiting,  a  five-dollar  bill. 

"The  girl  made  a  coarse  jest  of  me  being  the  right 
kind  of  a  sport  and  left  us.  AYe  sat  down  again.  I  saw 
Martha  was  faint.  I  asked  her  when  she  had  eaten  last. 
Could  I  send  out  for  anything?  She  said  I  could.  So  she 
called  a  man,  and  I  told  him  to  go  out  and  bring  in  the 
nicest  supper  he  could  get  for  two ;  to  bring  up  a  bottle  of 
port  wine.  I  gave  him  a  dollar  for  himself.  It  must  have 
been  two  in  the  morning,  but,  wherever  he  got  it,  he  brought 
in  a  first-class  meal  —  chicken  and  salad,  and  coffee  and 
rolls,  and  the  bottle  of  wine,  I  felt  faint  myself,  I  wanted 
something  real  bad,  Martha  set  the  table.  As  we  were 
eating  I  could  see  she  was  thinking.  Something  of  the  old 
look  began  to  come  into  her  face.  I  kept  her  in  talk,  re- 
minding her  of  the  day  she  left.  She  smiled  as  she  told 
me  of  the  girl  chaffing  me  as  she  was  about  to  step  on  the 


188  THE  OATH 

train  as  to  why  I  didn't  kiss  her.  I  pleaded  guilty,  Bob. 
Something  of  the  old  feeling  came  over  me  and,  when  we 
had  dined  and  wined,  I  said,  'I'll  kiss  you  now,  Martha, 
though  you  can  never  be  my  Martha.'  This  made  her  sad, 
but  I  kissed  her.  Then  she  cried  again.  Her  heart  seemed 
to  open  to  me,  and  she  began  to  tell  her  story,  from  the 
moment  she  arrived  in  Chicago  until  I  recognized  her  in 
the  Peoria  street  house.    My  blood  ran  cold  as  she  went  on." 

Hill  sobbed  bitterly  during  the  recital.  At  its  conclu- 
sion, he  rose  from  his  seat,  and,  clasping  his  hands,  looked 
toward  the  ceiling,  exclaiming: 

"  Oh !  is  there  no  protecting  angel  to  guard  the  foot- 
steps of  our  poor  innocent  girls,  or  an  avenging  God  to  smite 
the  demons  who  are  guilty  of  such  atrocities!  By  the 
eternal!  I  live  now  but  for  one  purpose,  and  that  is  to 
bathe  my  hands  in  the  blood  of  those  who  trapped  my  sister, 
and  I  appeal  to  the  ever-living  God  to  strengthen  my  hand. 
Did  she  tell  you  where  this  Rosenthal  could  be  found?" 

"No." 

"Then  I  will  find  him,  if  it  costs  me  my  life  and  all  I 
have  of  the  world's  goods." 

"Now  keep  calm.  Bob,  it's  no  use  of  your  getting  your- 
self so  excited." 

"I  can't  help  it.  What  I  want  is,  REVENGE!"  He 
fell  back  in  his  chair  in  a  swoon. 

Howard  ran,  got  some  water,  and  bathed  his  temples. 
In  time  he  recovered. 

"What  are  we  to  do,  Matt?"  he  said,  as  soon  as  he  had 
composed  himself.    "I  can't  leave  her  there." 

"Well,  wait.  I  am  not  done  yet.  About  four  in  the 
morning  I  wanted  to  go.  She  wouldn't  let  me.  She  said  I 
would  likely  be  robbed  or  murdered  before  I  went  two 
blocks;  that  more  than  likely  fellows  were  on  the  lookout 


What  ]   Want  Is  Rkvkx. 


THE  OATH  189 

for  me.  I  felt  a  little  scary  and  somewhat  embarrassed. 
I  said,  'I'll  go.    Just  show  me  to  the  door.'  " 

"  *No,  you  won't,  Matthew.  I  don't  want  your  blood 
on  my  head.  You  must  sleep  here,'  pointing  to  the  bed. 
'Well,  where  will  you  sleep?'  without  a  thought.  'Oh  never 
mind  me.  I'm  used  to  staying  up.  I  can  sleep  all  day. 
Wait  and  I'll  get  you  some  clean  sheets.'  She  went  and 
got  them  and  made  the  bed  for  me.  'Now  I  will  go  out, 
while  you  undress  yourself, '  just  as  modest  as  any  chamber 
maid  could  be.  I  took  some  of  my  things  off  and  got  into 
bed.  In  a  few  minutes  she  peeped  in,  and  seeing  me  in 
bed  came  in  and  tidied  up  the  room  a  bit,  leaving  me  a 
clean  towel  and  some  water  to  wash  myself  when  I  got  up. 
I  remained  quiet,  watching  her.  She  spread  my  clothes 
neatly  on  the  back  of  one  of  the  chairs  and,  tip-toeing  over 
to  the  bed,  she  stooped  over  and  gently  placed  her  lips  to 
mine.  I  heard  her  say,  'God  bless  you,  Matt.'  I  let  on 
I  was  asleep,  but  never  felt  more  miserable  in  my  life.  She 
left  the  room  noiselessly.  I  didn't  wake  up  until  near  9 
in  the  morning.  I  raised  myself  on  my  elbow,  and  looking 
out  saw  her  stretched  full  length  on  the  floor,  right  up 
against  the  door,  so  that  no  one  could  open  it  without  push- 
ing her  away.  I  got  up,  dressed,  and  washed  myself.  When 
my  toilet  was  complete  I  went  over  and  shook  her.  'Mar- 
tha, Martha,  wake  up ! '  She  stared  vacantly  for  a  moment 
and  then  arose." 

"  'You're  ready  to  go?'  she  said. 

"  'Yes,  and  you're  going  to  go  with  me.' 

"She  shook  her  head.  'No,  Matthew,  there  is  no  place 
for  me  but  this,  until  the  woman  of  this  house,  tiring  of  me, 
casts  me  out  to  find  another  place  still  more  degraded.'  I 
begged  and  appealed  to  her  to  come  away  with  me.  I  would 
send  her  away  to  any  place  she  chose  to  rest  and  reflect, 


190  THE  OATH 

and  I  would  devise  some  plan  that  she  could  come  back  to 
her  old  home  after  a  time,  but  to  no  avail." 

"  'If  I  thought  you  would  betray  me,'  she  said,  finally, 
*  and  my  father  and  mother  would  find  out  the  life  I  've  been 
leading,  I  would  commit  suicide. '  Seeing  that  my  entreaties 
were  of  no  avail,  I  prepared  to  leave.  She  placed  her  arms 
around  my  neck  and  kissed  me.  'Matthew,  I  have  spent  a 
happy  night  in  spite  of  my  tears.  Good-bye,  and  forget  you 
ever  saw  me.  My  friends  think  I'm  dead;  it  will  be  cruel 
if  you  undeceive  them.'  As  I  was  going  along  the  passage 
on  the  lower  floor  I  saw  four  of  the  worst  looking  ruffians 
it  is  possible  to  imagine  watching  me,  and  I  remembered  her 
warning  of  the  night  before.  As  she  shook  hands  with  me 
outside  the  door  I  offered  her  money.  She  refused  to  accept 
it.  So  I  forced  a  twenty-dollar  bill  down  her  breast,  and 
walked  rapidly  away." 

"Revenge!  Revenge!"  exclaimed  Hill,  livid  with  rage. 
*'But  first  I  must  take  her  from  that  den  of  infamy." 

"But  what  if  she  won't  go?"  inquired  Howard. 

"Then  I'll  kill  her!"  his  teeth  firmly  clenched. 

"Well,  Robert,  I  hope  you'll  do  nothing  rash.  Remem- 
ber they're  a  desperate  crowd  and,  if  any  attempt  is  made 
to  take  her  away  by  force,  blood  will  be  shed.  Hadn't  we 
better  see  the  police?" 

"No,  I'll  be  my  own  police.  The  police  that  tolerate 
such  places  are  guilty,  yes  more  so,  than  the  women  that 
run  them.  If  the  police  were  any  good  they  would  have 
found  her  in  the  woman  Blomgarten's  who  bought  her  from 
the  slaver  Ike  Rosenthal.  No,  Matthew,  I'll  not  trust  the 
police,  and,  if  I  go  to  take  her,  woe  be  to  the  man  or  woman 
who  tries  to  stop  me ! " 

"Well,  when  are  you  going  to  make  the  attempt?" 

* '  Tomorrow. ' ' 


THE  OATH  191 

"Then  I'll  go  with  you.  But,  remember,  we'll  have  to 
use  some  diplomacy." 

''I  don't  want  you  to  run  any  risk,  Matthew.  You  can, 
however,  show  me  the  place." 

"Bob,  I  don't  like  to  hear  you  talk  that  way.  Don't 
think  I'm  a  coward." 

"I  know  you're  not,  Matt.    Forgive  me." 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do.  There's  no  use  in 
going  there  until  the  evening.  We  '11  leave  here  by  the  4 :30 
tomorrow  afternoon.  You  can  send  word  around  to  the 
mill  in  the  morning  that  you're  sick  and  I'll  go  over  about 
noon.  You  know  I've  some  stock  in  the  firm  and  tell  them 
I'm  going  to  take  you  to  see  a  doctor.  That  will  excuse  us 
both.  What  we'll  do  with  her  when  we  get  her  we  can 
decide  after.  So  go  right  home  now  like  a  good  fellow, 
and  go  straight  to  bed." 


192  BAFFLED 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

BAFFLED. 

Matt  Howard  and  Robert  Hill  reached  Chicago  a  little 
after  seven  in  the  evening  of  the  day  they  determined  to 
rescue  Martha.  Howard  had  hard  work  to  curb  Bob's  im- 
patience. 

"Robert,"  he  said,  "we  have  plenty  of  time.  In  the 
first  place  we  will  have  to  make  some  arrangements  as  to 
where  we  will  bring  her.  The  clothing  I  have  brought  in 
the  case  will  fit  her  well  enough,  but  she  must  have  some 
place  to  put  them  on,  and  we  will  have  to  stay  in  Chicago 
tonight  anyway." 

Hill  had  to  admit  the  force  of  Howard's  argument. 
Howard  was  a  business  man  and  wanted  to  go  about  things 
methodically.  Robert  Hill  wanted  fight.  He  had  a  "44" 
in  his  pocket  and  determined  to  use  it  on  the  first  man  or 
woman  who  would  bar  his  passage.  Howard  had  a  "38"; 
he  was  equally  determined,  but  had  much  more  discretion. 

"Do  you  remember  the  name  of  that  hotel  where  they 
found  her  bundle?" 

"No,  but  I  can  find  it.    It's  on  Clark  street." 

"Well,  we'll  go  there  first,  and  secure  rooms.  "We 
can  leave  the  clothes  we  have  for  her  there,  except  the  cloak ; 
that  we'll  take  with  us  in  the  cab  we  engage."  After  regis- 
tering at  the  hotel,  Howard  insisted  they  should  have  some- 
thing to  eat  before  they  started  out.  Hill  was  chafing  at 
the  delay. 


BAPFLED  193 

"You'll  have  to  keep  cool,  Bob.  Remember  this  is  no 
child's  pla3^    We  may  have  some  trouble." 

"I'm  ready  for  it,"  replied  his  friend. 

"So  am  I;  but,  if  we  can  avoid  it,  so  much  the  better." 

It  was  8:30  when  they  left  the  hotel.  Howard  went 
toward  a  cab  stand  which  was  near  by,  followed  by  Robert. 
They  walked  the  line  till  Howard  accosted  a  man  who  had  a 
pair  of  good-looking  horses.  The  man,  seeing  them  looking 
at  his  rig,  said,  "Carriage,  sir?" 

"I  was  just  looking  at  that  pair  of  horses  of  yours. 
They  seem  pretty  good  stock." 

"As  good  as  is  in  the  city  in  this  business,  sir." 

"You  own  them  yourself?" 

"Yes." 

"Have  you  been  long  in  the  business?'* 

"Over  twenty  years." 

"I  suppose  you  have  a  family!" 

The  man  looked  at  him  for  a  second  or  so  before  he 
gave  him  an  answer. 

"Yes,  but  my  family's  grown  up." 

"The  reason  I  ask  you  that  question  is,  you  being  a 
man  of  family  you  are  likely  to  have  some  sympathy  with 
the  project  we  have  in  view.  It  is  this :  A  girl  in  whom  we 
are  interested  has  gone  astray;  she's  in  a  low-down  dive 
on  the  west  side  and  we  are  going  to  take  her  out;  we're 
relatives  of  hers.  I  will  pay  you  well.  It  may  take  one  hour 
or  it  may  take  four." 

"I  don't  care  how  long  it  takes  if  it's  an  honest  deal. 
Where  is  it?"  inquired  the  cabman. 

"Peoria  street,  near  Lake." 

"A  pretty  tough  locality.  Probably  you  may  have  a 
scrap  if  she  don't  want  to  leave  willingly,  or  maybe  they'll 
try  to  prevent  her  from  going  with  you.     I'll  go  anyhow. 


194  BAFFLED 

Of  course,  if  they  do  any  damage  to  my  cab  I'll  expect  you 
to  make  it  good." 

"I'll  do  that,"  replied  Howard.  "I  am  a  responsible 
man. ' ' 

"Well,  you  look  all  right,"  replied  the  cabman,  looking 
them  over  critically. 

"You  get  her  into  my  cab,  and  let  me  get  the  horses 
started.  I'll  bring  her  to  wherever  you  want  me."  With 
that  they  started  out. 

As  they  reached  the  corner  of  Lake  street,  the  cabman 
pulled  up  his  horses.  Matt  Howard  put  his  head  out  of  the 
window.     "Go  round  the  corner." 

"No,  you  get  out  here  and  go  and  get  the  girl.  When 
you're  gone  I'll  drive  around  and  stop  about  fifty  feet  from 
the  house  with  my  horses'  heads  in  the  way  I'm  going  to  go. 
As  soon  as  I  see  you  coming  down  the  steps  with  her  I'll 
drive  up.  Of  course,  if  she  comes  willingly  and  they  let  her 
go  we'll  have  no  trouble,  but  if  there's  any  fuss  get  her  in 
the  cab,  and,  one  or  both  of  you  jump  in  beside  her  and  I'm 
off.  I  know  this  crowd  around  here  better  than  you  men." 
The  judgment  of  the  cabman  impressed  Martha's  friend 
and  brother  favorably.  They  told  the  cabman  the  number 
of  the  house  they  were  going  to. 

"I  know  the  place;  it's  one  of  the  toughest." 

"Now,  Robert,"  said  Matthew,  as  they  turned  into  the 
street,  "you  go  over  on  the  other  side  and  I'll  go  in;  you 
stay  till  you  see  me  at  the  front  window.  As  soon  as  you 
do  come  right  over.  If  she  sees  you,  the  poor  thing  might 
take  flight." 

This  remark  brought  tears  to  her  brother's  eyes. 

Matthew  Howard  went  straight  up  the  steps  and  into 
the  front  room  of  Kate  Kanter's  dive.  He  looked  around, 
but  Martha  was  not  in  sight. 


BAFFLED  195 

**Good  evening!"  said  a  young  damsel  in  short  skirts. 
"Going  to  buy  a  drink?" 

"Sure,  sit  down.     What  will  you  take?" 

"Oh,  a  bottle  of  beer." 

"Bring  us  two  quarts,"  addressing  the  waiter.  "Per- 
haps some  of  your  sisters  would  take  a  little?"  smiling  at 
the  girl.  When  the  beer  was  brought  Matthew  Howard  had 
a  number  of  the  girls  around  him.  He  laughed  and  joked 
with  them,  at  the  same  time  glancing  around  in  hopes  of 
seeing  the  object  of  his  search.  The  two  bottles  of  beer 
didn't  last  but  a  few  minutes.  Matt  ordered  two  more. 
"I'm  out  for  a  good  time,"  he  said,  "let  us  enjoy  ourselves," 
assuming  a  jollity  entirely  different  to  the  bent  of  his  mind. 

The  first  girl  to  whom  he  spoke  on  entering  thought  to 
contribute  to  his  enjoyment  by  sitting  on  his  knee.  He 
laughed  as  if  it  was  just  what  he  desired.  Three  sinister' 
looking  fellows  sat  at  a  table  with  three  women,  who  left 
them  to  join  those  already  around  HoAvard,  their  men,  be- 
ing regular  hangers-on  who  lived  on  the  wages  of  sin,  offer- 
ing no  objection.  And,  as  it  was  too  early  for  the  assembling 
of  the  regular  patrons,  they  flocked  around  Howard  as  the 
only  prospective  customer  in  the  place.  Matthew  told  the 
waiter  to  take  our  friends,  alluding  to  the  three  men  who 
sat  alone,  a  couple  of  bottles.  They  all  three  smiled  and 
bowed  their  acknowledgment  to  him,  as  the  waiter  laid  the 
bottles  on  the  table  with  the  remark : 

"The  gentleman  wants  you  to  take  a  drink  with  him." 

Matthew  waved  his  hand  and  bowed  to  them  as  if  they 
were  old  college  chums. 

"Weren't  you  here  the  night  before  last?"  said  one  of 
the  girls  who  had  just  joined  the  group,  looking  at  him, 

"Yes,"  he  replied.    "Where's  my  girl?" 


196  BAFFLED 

"Oh,  you  were  with  Clem;  she's  skipped."  Howard 
felt  as  if  a  knife  had  pierced  him. 

"Don't  you  know  where  she's  gone?"  he  blurted  out. 

"No,  she  never  said  a  word  to  anyone  of  us.  I  don't 
believe  the  missus  knows  where  she  is." 

"I  expect  a  friend  outside,"  said  Matt,  now  totally 
down-hearted,  "you'll  excuse  me."  He  went  to  the  front 
window  and  pulled  the  blind  aside.  He  could  see  Robert 
Hill  place  his  hand  to  his  left  breast  where  he  had  his  gun 
ready  for  action,  rush  across  the  street,  and  up  the  steps. 
As  he  entered  the  parlor  he  scared  some  of  the  women  by 
his  appearance.    Matt  met  him  at  the  door. 

"She's  gone!"  he  exclaimed.  Hill  staggered  under  the 
shock. 

"Keep  cool,  Bob.  We'll  have  to  make  inquiries  of  the 
missus."    Hill  fell  into  a  seat. 

"What's  the  matter  with  your  friend?"  inquired  one 
of  the  women. 

"He  don't  feel  well  this  evening." 

"Give  him  a  drink,"  suggested  one  of  the  girls.  "You 
go,  Lulu,  and  warm  him  up."  The  blood  had  left  Robert 
Hill 's  face.  The  girl  gave  him  the  glass,  and  he  drank.  He 
felt  faint. 

"I  should  like  to  have  met  Clem,"  remarked  Howard. 
"She  was  a  pretty  nice  girl." 

"Oh,  there's  as  good  as  ever  she  was  here,"  said  one 
of  the  girls,  looking  at  the  others  for  their  approval. 

"I  believe  so,"  said  Howard,  sharply,  "but  you  know 
when  a  fellow's  stuck  on  a  girl  he's  apt  to  think  there's  no 
one  like  her." 

"That's  so,"  said  an  elderly  dame.  "Just  as  when  a 
woman  is  stuck   on  a   fellow.     She  thinks   he's  perfect. 


BAFFLED  197 

There's  Lulu's  bloke  over  there,  and  I'm  sure  he's  no  beauty, 
and  she  thinks  there's  nobody  like  him." 

"He's  all  right!"  said  Lulu,  looking  over  approvingly 
at  a  fellow  that  any  intelligent  jury  would  convict  on  sight. 

"Well,  I  want  to  see  the  mistress  of  the  house.  You 
girls  can  have  some  more  beer.  Waiter  bring  in  a  couple  of 
quarts.  Where's  the  mistress?"  addressing  the  man  who 
was  waiting. 

"She's  in  the  kitchen,  sir." 

"Oh  stay  where  you  are,"  chimed  in  one  of  the  women. 
"There's  no  use  of  you  seeing  her.  She  never  scabs  it  on 
the  girls,  besides  she  has  a  bloke  of  her  own."  The  girls 
laughed  at  this  sally. 

Matthew  beckoned  Bob  to  follow  him.  "I'll  be  back  in 
a  minute  or  two,"  he  said  to  the  party  on  leaving. 

Kate  Kanter  nodded  to  the  two  young  men  when  she 
saw  them  entering  the  place  where  she  was. 

"You  were  here  the  other  night  with  Mr.  Stubbs, 
weren't  you?" 

"Yes,  ma'am,  and  I  wanted  to  meet  that  girl  Clem  that 
I  was  with." 

"Oh  yes,  I  remember.  She  left  immediately  after  you 
without  saying  a  word.  I  thought  probably  you  made  a 
permanent  appointment  with  her." 

"No,  she  never  said  a  word  to  me  about  leaving  you." 

"That's  strange.  I  was  sorry  to  lose  her ;  she  was  about 
the  best  girl  I  had.  You  see  she  wasn't  so  much  given  to 
booze  as  the  most  of  them." 

"Then  you've  no  idea  where  she  is?" 

"Not  the  slightest.  She  just  put  her  shawl  on,  the  girls 
told  me  after  you  had  left,  and  walked  right  out." 

"Do  you  think  she  went  to  any  other  house  in  the 
neighborhood?" 


198  BAFFLED 

"No,  I'm  sure  she  didn't.  I  always  treated  her  white, 
and  I'm  sure  Clem  wouldn't  leave  me  for  any  place  around 
here. ' ' 

Robert  Hill  had  to  lean  on  a  chair  for  support  while 
listening  to  this  dialogue — he  was  deathly  pale. 

"She  was  a  real  good  girl,"  continued  the  Kanter 
woman,  "and  very  popular." 

Hill  staggered  back  into  the  passage. 

"Your  friend  don't  seem  well,"  remarked  the  woman. 

"No,  ma'am,  I  think  I'll  have  to  take  him  home." 

Matthew  Howard  took  his  friend's  arm  as  far  as  the 
front  room,  where  he  went  in  and  paid  for  the  last  two 
bottles  of  beer  he  had  ordered,  and,  telling  the  women  he 
would  see  them  later,  they  both  left  the  place. 

The  cabman,  seeing  them  come  down  the  steps,  drove 
up  and  seemed  disappointed  at  their  not  having  the  object 
of  their  search  with  them. 

"Wouldn't  she  come?"  he  inquired, 

"She  is  not  there,"  replied  Howard. 

"Perhaps  you  had  better  try  some  of  the  other  places. 
There's  lots  of  them  around  here." 

Robert  Hill  threw  himself  on  the  back  seat  of  the  car- 
riage. He  was  deathly  sick.  "I  can't  go  any  farther  to- 
night.   Take  me  to  the  hotel ;  I  must  lie  down." 

Matthew  paid  the  cabman  liberally,  and  told  him  to 
call  for  them  at  8  p.  m.  sharp  the  following  evening. 


PLANNING  199 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 
PLANNING. 

The  cabman,  as  prearranged,  was  in  waiting  at  the 
hotel  at  the  time  appointed,  to  renew  the  search  for  the 
lost  girl.  Both  Hill  and  Howard  were  at  a  loss  as  to  how 
to  commence,  so  decided  to  confer  with  the  cabman,  who 
knew  the  locality.  On  the  cabman  arriving  at  the  rooms 
Avhich  Howard  had  secured,  thinking  they  would  have 
Martha  for  an  occupant,  after  the  usual  salutation,  Howard 
said:  "You  see,  my  good  man,  we  have  little  knowledge 
of  those  places  we  have  to  visit  in  search  of  the  party  we 
seek,  so  will  have  to  depend  in  a  great  measure  upon  your 
advice.    How  do  you  think  we  should  go  about  it?" 

"Well,  in  my  opinion,  you  should  apply  for  a  police 
escort,  who  would  take  you  through  whatever  places  you 
wanted  to  go  to," 

"Is  it  possible  that  the  police  are  cognizant  of  such 
places,  and  still  allow  them  to  exist?" 

"Young  man,  you  have  a  good  deal  to  learn  how  things 
are  run  in  this  city.  Those  houses — the  worst  of  them — are 
under  police  regulation,  which  means,  go  as  you  please,  so 
long  as  you  get  the  dough  and  divide  up." 

"If  that's  so,  then  I  object  to  any  police  escort,  as 
they  would  be  just  as  likely  to  thwart  our  object  as  to  aid 
us.  Besides,  I  am  prejudiced  against  the  police;  not  but 
there  may  be  many  honest,  sincere  men  in  the  service,  but 
those  who  profit  by  the  infamy  of  those  institutions  also 
control  the  force," 


200  PLANNING 

"That's  my  opinion  too!"  exclaimed  Howard,  nodding 
to  the  cabman. 

"No  doubt,"  replied  the  cabman,  "but  the  only  use 
the  policeman  would  be  to  us  would  be  to  show  you  around. 
You  need  not  tell  him  your  mission;  he  would  probably 
think  your  only  purpose  would  be  to  visit  the  ranches  and 
inspect  the  stock,  for  which  he  would  likely  receive  a  com- 
mission from  the  housekeepers,  if  you  should  spend  any 
amount  of  money  in  their  places." 

"I  would  very  much  like  to  dispense  with  the  service 
of  the  policemen,"  said  Hill,  "as  I  am  very  much  afraid 
of  them." 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you  what  you  might  do.  You  know 
I'll  have  to  take  care  of  my  horses,  and  when  you  get  the 
girl  I'll  play  my  part,  but  I'm  not  the  proper  party  to  jolly 
the  people  in  the  resorts,  and  probably  this  may  be  an  all 
night  job." 

"What  is  it  you  suggest  then?" 

That  you  secure  the  service  of  one  of  the  fellows  that 
hang  around  such  places,  if  it's  only  to  show  you  the  vealy 
side  of  life.  A  few  dollars  and  drinks  will  do,  but,  if  you 
tell  him  your  mission,  you  will  have  to  pay  him  his  price 
with  a  contingent  fee  if  you  get  her." 

"I  like  that  plan,"  said  Howard,  "but  where  can  we 
get  the  man?" 

"That's  easy.  You  know  the  place  we  were  at  last 
night?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  Kate  Kanter  is  a  fairly  good  type  of  her  class, 
and,  as  you  told  me,  thought  a  good  deal  of  the  girl  you're 
looking  for.  I  think  she'd  be  willing  to  help  you;  probably 
she  would  not  like  the  girl  to  be  in  a  worse  place  than  her 
own." 


PLANNING  201 

"Is  that  possible!"  exclaimed  Hill. 

"Well,  3'oung  man,  after  you've  visited  some  of  the 
places  I  expect  you'll  have  to  go  through  tonight  you  11 
think  Kate  Kanter's  dive  respectable." 

Howard  felt  a  sickening  sensation  at  his  heart  to  think 
the  girl  he  had  loved  so  dearly  could  become  so  depraved. 

Hill's  brow  darkened,  his  teeth  firmly  set.  There  was 
desperation  in  his  stolidness.  "Let  us  start  out!"  he  said, 
"This  delay  is  killing  me." 

"Let  us  go,  then,"  said  Howard. 

"Wait  a  moment,"  urged  the  cabman,  "I'm  not  con- 
sidering myself.  I  am  satisfied  you  gentlemen  will  treat 
me  right,  but  I  think  we  should  have  a  plan  of  campaign 
before  going  to  the  Kanter  house.  What  I  suggest,  in  the 
first  instance,  is  that  when  you  visit  the  place  you  should 
act  as  if  you  were  a  couple  of  sports  out  for  a  good  time. 
Maybe  you  can  learn  something  in  advance.  Perhaps  they 
know  where  the  girl  is,  and  if  you  pump  them  it  may  make 
our  job  easy.  If  not,  you  can  ask  Kate  to  recommend  to 
you  a  fellow  that  knows  the  route  and  is  willing  to  show 
you  the  sights  for  a  consideration.  Of  course,  you'll  have 
to  buy  a  little  beer  for  the  girls  at  Kanter's  place,  and  prob- 
ably a  bottle  of  M^ine  for  Kate  herself,  so  as  to  put  her  in 
good  humor." 

"Oh!  that  makes  no  difference,"  replied  Howard,  "so 
long  as  she'll  recommend  the  right  fellow." 

On  the  way  to  Kanter's,  Howard  advised  Hill  to  let  him 
do  the  talking.  "You  know,  Bob,  you're  too  serious,  and 
can't  dissemble.  You  wear  a  frown  when  a  laugh  is  needed. 
You  know  I  am  just  as  serious  as  you  are  on  this  mission, 
but  I  can  put  on  a  pleasant  face  and  act  different  to  what 
I  feel." 


202  PLANNING 

"Friend  Matt,  it  is  very  hard  for  me  to  look  pleasant 
under  those  circumstances.  You  know  what  Martha  was 
to  me,  she  was  more  than  sister.  She  was  my  pal,  my  sweet- 
heart. I  had  built  such  great  hopes  in  her  future,  and  would 
never  have  surrendered  her  willingly  to  any  one  but  your- 
self, as  we  all  felt  confident  some  day  you  would  have  her 
for  your  wife,  but  that's  all  past  now."  A  tear  stole  down 
Hill's  cheek  which  he  brushed  away  with  his  handkerchief, 

"Console  yourself.  Bob.  What  is  is,  and  we  cannot 
change  it.  Our  sole  object  now  is  to  rescue  her,  and  I  am 
sure  she  will  not  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  your  appeal.  You  are 
virtually  the  head  of  her  family,  and  it  is  her  terror  of  them 
which  she  dreads  more  than  all.  As  for  me,  whatever  I  was 
to  her  once,  I  am  now  but  a  friend,  and  so  she  rates  me. 
Refusing  me  is  one  thing,  refusing  you  is  another." 

"Just  as  you  say.  Matt.  I  will  be  guided  by  your  judg- 
ment, and  act  as  best  I  can." 

Arriving  at  the  Kanter  house,  Howard  no  sooner  en- 
tered the  parlor  than  a  number  of  the  girls  came  forward 
to  greet  him. 

"Good  evening,  sport,"  was  his  first  greeting  by  one 
of  the  girls.  Her  sisters  in  misfortune  smiled  benignly  on 
him. 

"Hello,  girls!  How  are  you  all?"  was  Howard's  re- 
mark. 

"Ah,  I  see  you  have  a  friend  with  you,"  remarked  the 
first  one  who  addressed  him.  "Bring  him  in,  we'll  make 
things  pleasant  for  both  of  you;  won't  we,  girls?" 

"Sure,  we  will,"  was  the  response. 

Bob  Hill,  in  spite  of  his  determination  to  look  pleasant, 
frowned  upon  the  damsels. 

"He's  a  little  shy,"  remarked  Howard.  "You  girls 
will  have  to  excuse  him." 


PLANNING  203 

"That  will  wear  off,"  said  one,  "when  he's  here  a  little 
while." 

"Let's  sit  down,"  said  Howard.  "I  want  to  buy  a 
drink." 

"Well,  choose  your  partners,"  remarked  one,  and  some 
seven  women  lined  up  in  a  row. 

"We'll  do  that  a  little  later,"  said  Howard,  "and  in 
the  meantime  I  am  going  to  treat  you  all." 

"That's  the  way  to  talk,"  remarked  one  of  the  women, 
while  the  others  smiled  on  Howard, 

The  entire  group  sat  down,  two  of  the  girls  pulling  up 
a  table,  so  as  to  connect  with  another  and  so  make  room 
for  all. 

The  waiter  stood  in  expectancy. 

"Bring  us  a  half  dozen  bottles  of  beer." 

The  girls  looked  at  one  another,  and  then  ogled  Howard, 
as  if  in  admiration.  They  also  glanced  at  Hill,  but,  his 
chilly  looks  frosting  them,  they  paid  little  attention  to  him, 
to  his  great  relief. 

When  the  beer  was  brought,  one  of  the  girls  who  seemed 
most  gabby  looked  at  Howard  and,  giving  him  one  of  her 
most  seductive  smiles,  said,  "Would  you  object  to  treating 
our  friends?"  glancing  over  at  a  table  where  four  of  the 
male  hangers-on  were  seated. 

*'Not  on  your  life.  They're  as  welcome  as  the  flowers 
in  May." 

The  girl  grabbed  two  of  the  bottles  and  took  them  over 
to  where  her  male  friends  were  seated.  She  had  a  whis- 
pered conversation  with  them.  They  looked  over  in  the 
direction  where  Howard  and  Hill  were  seated  and  nodded. 
One  of  them  waved  his  hand  toward  Hill,  as  a  friendly  greet- 
ing,   Howard  held  his  up,  in  reply. 

As  there  were  but  few  visitors  at  Kate  Kanter's  estab- 


204  PLANNING 

lishment  up  to  that  time  of  the  evening,  and  the  women  had 
but  little  liquid  refreshment,  the  remaining  four  bottles  of 
beer  were  consumed  in  short  order. 

''Bring  us  six  more,"  ordered  Howard  to  the  waiter, 
who  stood  ever  ready  to  supply  the  wants  of  visitors  who 
had  the  price,  or  to  bounce  those  whose  presence  was 
objectionable. 

When  the  beer  was  bought  and  paid  for.  Hill  slipped  a 
half  dollar  into  his  hand.  He  smiled  and  expressed  his 
thanks. 

"Take  a  couple  of  bottles  over  to  our  friends  in  the 
rear, ' '  remarked  Howard,  in  an  off-hand  way.  The  girl  who 
had  served  on  the  former  occasion  took  the  two  bottles 
over,  and,  on  returning,  said,  "The  gentlemen  at  the  rear 
table  wish  to  thank  you."  Howard  looked  over  toward 
them  in  a  very  friendly  manner,  which  was  reciprocated  by 
the  men  in  the  rear. 

One  of  the  girls  who  sat  next  to  Hill  began  to  get 
familiar  with  him.  "Wake  up!"  she  said,  placing  her  hand 
on  his  knee.  "What's  the  matter  with  you?  Don't  you 
know  you're  in  good  company?" 

This  was  something  Hill  did  not  agree  with,  but  he 
returned  a  sickly  smile  in  acknowledgment 

Howard,  seeing  Hill's  embarrassment,  determined  to 
bring  the  seance  to  a  close  as  soon  as  possible. 

"Where's  Kate?"  he  remarked,  in  a  manner  as  if  they 
were  old  friends. 

"She's  up  dressing,"  replied  one  of  the  girls. 

"I  would  like  to  see  her." 

"She'll  be  down  soon,"  replied  the  girl. 

In  a  brief  time  Kate  Kanter  put  in  an  appearance,  and 
in  looking  into  the  parlor  recognized  Howard  as  a  man  who 
had  been  a  visitor  to  her  institution  on  former  occasions. 


PLANNING  205 

She  smiled  at  him  and  he  beckoned  her  to  approach.  When 
she  reached  the  group  she  extended  her  hand  to  Howard, 
who  gave  her  a  friendly  shake. 

"Will  you  join  us?" 

' '  No,  not  now ;  but  I  will  take  a  drink  with  you. ' ' 

Howard  reached  her  a  glass  of  the  beer. 

"I  may  want  to  see  you  a  little  later,"  he  remarked. 

"Oh  yes,  about  that  girl  of  yours,  I  suppose.  Well,  I 
never  heard  of  her  since." 

This  information  struck  deep  into  the  heart  of  Hill, 
whose  gloomy  disposition  nothing  but  an  interview  face  to 
face  with  his  sister  could  dispel. 

Howard  was  disappointed.  He  had  hoped  to  have 
learned  something  about  Martha  at  the  House  of  Kanter. 

"I  want  to. have  a  talk  with  you  anyway.  Miss  Kanter, 
when  you  have  time." 

"Then  you'll  find  me  in  the  kitchen,"  said  the  woman 
of  the  house,  remarking  before  she  left  she  hoped  he  and 
his  friend  would  have  a  pleasant  time. 

The  information  conveyed  inadvertently  to  Howard  as 
to  Kate  Kanter  having  no  knowledge  of  Martha  Hill's 
whereabouts  depressed  him  so  that  he  said,  turning  to  the 
waiter,  "Bring  some  more  beer.  I  want  to  have  a  talk 
with  Miss  Kanter,  and  will  pay  you  when  I  come  back. 
You'll  excuse  us,  girls,  for  a  time?"  and,  beckoning  to  Bob, 
they  left  the  women  abruptly. 

Miss  Kanter  greeted  them  cordially,  with  the  remark, 
"Well,  boys,  what  can  I  do  for  you?" 

"To  be  candid  with  you.  Miss  Kanter,  on  a  former 
occasion  you  expressed  a  friendly  feeling  for  Miss  Clemen- 
tina Montague.  We  are  here  to  try  and  find  her.  We  are 
both  very  much  interested  in  her,  how  much  we  don't  care 


206  PLANNING 

to  let  you  know,  but  we  want  to  find  her,  and  we  want  you 
to  inform  us  as  to  the  best  method  of  locating  her." 

"I  am  sure  I  don't  know  how  to  advise  you.  I  was 
sorry  when  she  left.  She  was  a  good  girl,  and  I  don't  be- 
lieve she  could  have  a  better  place  than  this.  I  always 
treated  her  white." 

Hill  turned  away  his  head  to  hide  the  look  of  contempt 
he  had  for  Kate  Kanter's  estimate  of  a  good  girl,  and  her 
absolute  disregard  for  morality. 

"Do  you  think  she  sought  refuge  in  some  other  house?" 

"That  I  don't  know.  More  than  likely  she  did.  You 
see,  women  who  choose  this  life  seldom  or  never  change 
their  way,  unless  they  can  find  some  sucker  to  marry  them, 
and  when  he  does,  he  should  be  either  not  particular  in 
playing  the  cuckold,  or  keep  a  close  watch  on  them.  Fel- 
lows like  those  you  see  in  the  front  marry  girls  for  an  ob- 
ject, and  expect  to  be  kept  by  them  from  their  earnings  in 
houses  like  this,  but  Clem  was  a  different  kind  of  girl.  She 
never  warmed  up  to  any  of  those  fellows,  and  always  kept 
them  at  a  distance.  She  didn't  care  much  for  the  booze 
either,  and  was  very  popular." 

This  praise  struck  deep  into  the  heart  of  her  brother, 
who  surmised  what  such  popularity  meant. 

"But,  I  assure  you,  gentlemen,"  said  Kate,  continuing, 
"if  I  knew  where  she  was  I  would  tell  you,  as  I  had  a  warm 
feeling  for  Clem,  and  was  sorry  when  she  left  me." 

"Do  you  think  we  would  be  likely  to  find  her  if  we 
made  a  search?" 

"You  might." 

"Well,  Miss  Kanter,  we  are  not  very  well  acquainted 
around  those  parts.  Do  you  think  you  could  recommend 
somebody  to  show  us  around?" 

"I  probably  could.    Wait  till  I  see  who's  in  the  front.** 


PLANNING  207 

Kate  Kanter  went  toward  the  parlor,  and  in  a  few 
moments  returned  with  a  young  man.  He  was  about  twen- 
ty-five years  of  age,  of  robust  build.  His  sallow  counte- 
nance was  adorned  with  a  black  mustache,  which  was  also 
the  color  of  his  hair.  He  was  low-browed,  and  of  a  gener- 
ally sinister  appearance. 

Howard  and  Hill  both  gazed  at  him  with  some  mis- 
givings. 

"Tony,  shake  hands  with  those  two  gentlemen.  They 
want  you  to  show  them  around  a  little." 

Tony  shook  hands  with  both  Hill  and  Howard. 

"Now,  Tony,"  said  the  woman,  addressing  him,  "I 
want  you  to  treat  those  men  right,  and  see  that  they  don't 
get  into  trouble.  I  have  no  doubt  they  will  do  the  right 
thing  by  you." 

"I'll  take  care  of  them,"  remarked  Tony,  in  a  confident 
air. 

"They  have  a  special  mission,"  remarked  Kate,  "and 
I  want  you  to  know  in  advance  I  am  in  favor  of  it,  so  help 
them  all  you  can." 

"I'll  do  the  best  I  know  how." 

"They  will  explain  it  to  you,"  said  Kate,  "when  you 
start  out." 

Tony  nodded. 

"I  am  very  thankful  to  you,"  said  Howard,  pleased  at 
the  Kanter  woman's  business  methods,  "and  I  would  like 
to  buy  a  bottle  of  wine  before  we  go." 

"Never  mind.  Some  other  time.  But  you  can  treat 
the  girls." 

"That  we  will,"  replied  Howard,  "but  I  want  you  to 
accept  a  little  present,"  placing  his  hand  in  his  vest  pocket 
and  producing  a  five-dollar  bill,  which  he  slipped  into  her 
hand.     She  thanked  him.     The  three  men  then  repaired  to 


208  PLANNING 

the  parlor,  where  Howard  paid  for  the  drinks  he  had  or- 
dered, and  told  the  waiter  to  bring  in  a  fresh  supply.  They 
then  prepared  to  take  their  departure,  the  girls  protesting 
against  their  going,  and  one  of  them  telling  them: 

''You  don't  know  what  you're  missing  if  you  leave 
here." 

Another  said,  "Stay  boys.  If  you  go  farther  you'll 
fare  worse." 

Two  or  three  of  them  tried  to  block  the  way.  "Cut  it 
out!"  growled  Tony,  "we're  going  out  on  a  little  business." 

The  girls  fell  back  as  if  they  had  heard  a  peremptory 
command  from  a  superior,  and  offered  no  further  obstacle 
to  the  men's  departure. 


THE  SEARCH  209 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 
THE  SEARCH. 

On  Howard,  Hill,  and  their  eseore  reaching  where  the 
carriage  stood,  Howard  apologized  to  the  cabman  for  keep- 
ing him  waiting. 

"Never  mind  me,"  said  the  driver,  "I  am  used  to  that 
kind  of  thing;  besides,"  smiling,  "I'm  engaged  by  the 
hour. ' ' 

"That's  so,"  remarked  Howard,  "but  probably  a  little 
later  we  may  have  a  little  refreshments,  and,  of  course, 
you're  counted  in." 

Tony,  who  had  been  listening  to  the  dialogue,  beck- 
oned Howard  to  come  a  little  away,  and,  in  a  tone  of  voice 
not  intended  for  the  cabman,  said,  "You  don't  need  him. 
All  the  houses  here  are  within  a  few  blocks,  and  if  you  want 
to  visit  many  of  them  it  will  take  some  time,  so  there  is  no 
use  wasting  money.  If  I  was  you  I  would  pay  him  off  and 
let  him  go." 

"Thanks  for  your  consideration,  Tony,  but  we  may 
need  him,  as  we  have  a  special  mission,  and  I  may  as  well 
make  you  acquainted  with  it  at  once.  You  knew  Clem 
Montague,  that  lived  at  Kanter's?" 

"Sure.  I  knew  her  well,  and  she  was  all  right.  We 
have  been  wondering  what  became  of  her." 

"That's  our  trouble  too,  and  we  are  very  close  friends 
of  hers.  We  want  you  to  help  us  to  find  her,  and  if  you  do 
we'll  reward  you  well." 


210  THE  SEARCH 

''What  do  you  want  to  find  her  for?  Do  you  want  to 
'pinch'  her?    If  you  do,  count  me  out." 

"No,  no.  We  are  her  friends  and  want  to  help  and  not 
harm  her." 

"If  I  was  sure  of  that,  I  would  not  mind  lending  you 
a  hand,  but  I'd  like  to  know  what  you  want  with  her.  Do 
you  want  to  ship  her  to  another  place?  Have  you  a  cus- 
tomer for  her?    If  you  have,  I'd  want  to  stand  in." 

Howard  was  embarrassed  for  a  reply,  but  was  pleased 
that  his  friend  Hill  had  no  share  in  the  conversation,  as 
the  cold-blooded  proposition  of  their  scout  would  assuredly 
have  roused  his  ire. 

"Our  intention,  if  we  find  her,  is  to  bring  her  home  to 
her  people,  to  provide  for  her,  reclaim  her,  and  try  to  make 
her  respectable." 

"I'm  afraid  you're  wasting  your  time,  but  as  Kate 
wants  me  to  help  you  I  '11  do  it.  Of  course,  my  time 's  worth 
something." 

"I  will  treat  you  generously.  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do, 
I'll  give  you  ten  dollars  now  to  begin  with,  and,  if  we  suc- 
ceed in  finding  her  through  your  aid  I  will  add  forty  more. 
That  will  make  fifty — not  a  bad  night's  work." 

"Gee!  you  fellows  must  want  her  real  bad.  I  wouldn't 
give  fifty  for  a  dozen  like  her,  and  in  my  opinion  when  you 
get  her  you  won't  be  able  to  hold  her." 

"That  needn't  concern  you.  Here's  your  ten  to  begin 
with." 

"All  right,  boss,  come  along.  If  she's  in  this  district 
we'll  get  her,  but  you'd  better  keep  a  little  in  the  back- 
ground, because,  if  she  sees  you,  she  may  fly  the  coop,  as 
she  did  before." 

This  practical  but  disheartening  suggestion  gave  How- 
ard a  chill.    He  remembered  his  experience  with  her.     He, 


THE  SEARCH  211 

however,  had  hopes  that  the  sight  of  her  brother,  and  his 
determination  that  she  should  go  with  him,  would  more  than 
offset  any  scruples  she  might  have  and  come  willingly.  If 
not,  Howard  dreaded  the  consequences,  because  Robert  Hill 's 
determined  manner  warranted  him  in  the  belief  that  should 
she  refuse  to  come  peacefully  her  brother  would  resort  to 
violence. 

''Well,  let  us  be  going,"  remarked  Howard,  "it's 
already  getting  late." 

"Plenty  of  time,"  replied  their  guide.  "In  the  next 
street  there's  over  a  dozen  places.  So  you  can  have  your 
hackman  drive  to  the  next  corner,  and  wait  for  us.  We'll 
walk  over." 

As  they  turned  the  corner  of  the  street  they  had  set 
out  for,  the  first  house  they  approached  was  of  similar  con- 
struction to  the  one  Kate  Kanter  controlled.  There  was  a 
flight  of  steps  up  to  the  floor  above  the  basement.  The  face 
of  a  girl  seemed  glued  to  the  window-pane,  where  the  cur- 
tain was  drawn  aside.  As  she  saw  the  three  men  approach, 
she  tapped  vigorously  on  the  glass.  Seeing  the  men's  inten- 
tion to  visit  the  house,  she  immediately  left  her  place  of 
look-out  and  met  the  men  at  the  parlor  door  with  what  she 
intended  for,  a  bewitching  smile. 

"Hello  Tony!"  she  said,  on  seeing  the  guide. 

"How  do,  Megg?"  was  his  reply.     "How's  business?" 

"Rotten." 

"Well,  come  and  take  a  drink.  Here's  a  couple  of 
gentlemen  visitors." 

Tony  and  the  girl  led  the  way  to  a  table,  where  they 
sat  down.  The  girl  looked  at  Tony  as  if  waiting  for  a  cue. 
Tony  whispered  to  the  girl,  "I  see  you've  got  Daisy  here, 
give  her  the  steer  to  come  over. ' '  In  the  meantime  another 
damsel  came  to  occupy  a  vacant  seat. 


212  THE  SEARCH 

"That  seat's  engaged,"  said  Tony,  pulling  the  chair 
away  from  her.  Daisy  came  forward  in  repsonse  to  a  beck 
from  the  first  woman.  She  seemed  to  be  about  sixteen  years 
of  age,  of  still  younger  appearance,  and  wore  short  skirts. 

"Sit  down,  Daisy,  and  join  us,"  was  Tony's  greeting. 
The  youthful  appearance  of  the  girl  discomfited  Howard  and 
Hill,  who  were  loth  to  be  seen  in  her  company.  The  im- 
portance of  their  mission,  however,  necessitated  their  toler- 
ance. 

Howard  ordered  some  beer,  while  Tony  joked  with  the 
two  girls.  Neither  Howard  nor  Hill  were  in  a  mood  to 
either  waste  time,  or  enter  into  conversation,  both  men  be- 
ing impatient  to  continue  their  search,  if  Martha  Hill  was 
not  there. 

Tony  came  to  the  point,  when  he  asked  the  elder  of  the 
two,  "How  many  girls  do  they  employ  here?" 

The  girl  thought  for  a  moment,  as  if  counting  them, 
and  at  length  said,  "Nine." 

Tony's  practiced  eye  ran  over  those  present,  counting 
seven.    "Where's  the  other  two?" 

"They're  upstairs;  they've  got  friends." 

' '  I  was  looking  for  an  old  girl  of  mine, ' '  remarked  Tony, 
in  an  offhand  manner. 

"What's  her  name?" 

"Clem  Montague.    She  used  to  be  at  Kat6  Kanter's." 

"She's  not  here.  One  of  the  girls  upstairs  is  a  little 
Jewess,  and  the  other's  a  very  stout  woman." 

Tony  looked  over  at  his  two  companions,  who  showed 
a  desire  to  go  farther, 

"We're  going  to  leave  you  girls,"  said  Tony,  rising. 
"Me  and  my  friend  were  just  passing.  We  thought  we'd 
call  in — probably  see  you  later." 

They  visited  about  a  dozen  places  of  a  similar  character, 


THE  SEARCH  213 

in  all  of  which  Tony  seemed  to  be  fairly  well  known  to  some 
of  the  habitues. 

As  the  night  advanced,  hilarity  seemed  to  increase  in 
the  places  visited.  In  some  of  them  the  girls  wished  to 
make  freedom  with  Howard  and  Hill.  When  about  to  go 
too  far,  Tony's  "Cut  it  out"  seemed  to  have  a  deterrent 
effect,  which  was  coupled  with  the  remark,  "We  just  looked 
in  to  buy  a  couple  of  bottles  of  beer." 

Howard  and  Hill  ultimately  came  to  the  conclusion  they 
had  the  right  fellow  with  them,  and  saw  how  difficult  their 
mission  would  have  been  without  a  guide.  All  three  men 
refrained  from  taking  much  of  the  beer,  the  object  of  their 
search  requiring  them  to  keep  their  heads  cool.  Tony  sipped 
at  his,  which  seemed  to  affect  him  very  little. 

The  cabman  followed  them  around  somewhat  in  the 
rear  of  the  trio.  This  caused  no  comment,  as  the  women  in 
the  windows  and  on  the  doorsteps  were  used  to  such  circum- 
stances, believing  that  he  had  a  slumming  party  for  his  fare. 
As  the  night  wore  on,  Howard  and  Hill  became  both  weary 
and  despondent.  It  was  about  2  a.  m.,  while  passing  a  restau- 
rant, when  Howard  said,  "Let  us  go  in  here,  I  must  have 
some  refreshments.  You  please  notify  the  cabman,"  ad- 
dressing their  guide. 

When  all  were  seated,  Howard  advised  Tony  and  the 
hackman  to  order  what  they  wanted.  Hill  would  have  but 
a  cup  of  coffee.  He  didn't  feel  like  eating,  nor  did  Howard, 
who  felt  very  much  disheartened  at  the  fruitlessness  of  their 
search. 

"Did  you  get  any  tidings  of  her?"  was  the  inquiry  of 
the  cabman,  who  had  been  trailing  behind  the  searchers, 
without  having  an  opportunity  to  communicate  with  them. 

"Not  a  word,"  replied  Howard.  "No  one  seems  to 
know  anything  as  to  where  she  is." 


214  THE  SEARCH 

"We'll  find  her  sure,  if  she's  in  this  district,"  remarked 
Tony,  in  a  confident  manner.  "There's  a  good  many  places 
to  visit  yet." 

"There  seems  to  be  an  entire  colony  of  such  places," 
said  Hill,  who  up  to  this  time  had  taken  little  part  in  the 
conversation. 

"Yes,  this  is  one  of  the  segregated  districts,"  remarked 
the  cabman.  "Nothing's  out  of  order  here,  only  murder, 
and  that's  no  uncommon  occurrence  in  this  territory." 

"What  do  you  suggest,  Tony?"  inquired  Howard. 

"That  we  keep  going.     It's  early  yet." 

Howard  pulled  out  his  watch,  which  registered  2:30 
a.  m. 

"Yes,  let  us  look  further,"  said  Robert  Hill,  in  his 
anxiety  to  find  the  lost  one. 

After  paying  their  score  they  set  out,  the  cabman  to 
see  to  his  conveyance,  Tony  to  lead  the  two  men  so  vitally 
interested. 

Turning  into  Lake  street,  Tony  stopped  in  front  of  a 
basement.  There  were  hieroglyphics  in  Chinese  characters 
facing  you  as  you  looked  down  into  the  tunnel-like  aperture, 
where  all  seemed  as  dark  as  a  dungeon. 

Hill  and  Howard  looked  at  one  another  as  in  doubt  of 
the  advisability  of  following  Tony,  who  was  already  half 
way  down. 

"Let  us  go  down,"  said  Hill,  following  the  man  in  ad- 
vance. Tony  shoved  open  the  door  without  knocking,  and 
walked  in,  followed  by  the  men  he  was  escorting. 

On  entering  the  basement  their  further  progress  was 
barred  by  a  counter  "L"  shaped,  which  effectually  pre- 
vented any  further  progress  to  the  interior.  The  rear  of 
the  basement  was  shut  off  by  what  seemed  a  canvas  par- 
tition about  seven  feet  high. 


THE  SEARCH  215 

''Hello,  John,  how  are  you?"  said  the  guide,  saluting 
a  rather  large  Chinaman,  who  was  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  counter. 

"Velly  well." 

The  Chinaman  looked  from  Tony  to  the  two  stalwart 
men  behind  him  with  some  misgivings. 

* '  All  right,  John,  friends  of  ours, ' '  leaving  a  dollar  note 
on  the  counter,  and,  at  the  same  time,  lifting  up  the  swing- 
ing part  of  the  counter  and  walking  in,  followed  by  the  two 
men. 

''We're  going  to  hit  the  pipe,  John." 

The  Chinaman  salaamed  to  his  three  visitors,  as  they 
passed  behind  the  screened  part  of  the  basement,  toward 
the  rear.  The  place  was  in  semi-gloom,  the  only  light  being 
given  from  a  number  of  Chinese  lanterns  hung  from  the 
low  ceiling.  A  peculiar,  and  somewhat  offensive  odor  per- 
meated the  place,  which  assailed  both  the  nostrils  and 
stomachs  of  the  two  countrymen,  who  were  unaccustomed 
to  such  haunts.  As  their  eyes  became  accustomed  to  the 
light  they  noticed  a  number  of  lounging  places  of  crude 
lumber,  arranged  as  double-deckers  close  to  the  walls  on 
both  sides  of  the  basement,  from  some  of  which  a  faint  smoke 
was  emanating,  while  discordant  murmurings  were  heard 
from  others.  A  little  way  from  the  entrance,  a  Chinaman 
sat  before  a  bench,  on  which  was  an  array  of  peculiar-shaped 
pipes.  A  spirit  lamp  throwing  off  a  small  blue  flame  was 
on  the  bench  before  him.  There  was  a  plate  also  on  the 
bench,  on  which  was  a  piece  of  dark  compound,  resembling 
the  shape  and  consistency  of  putty. 

"Get  me  a  pipe,  John,"  said  Tony,  in  familiar  manner. 

The  Chinaman  immediately  got  a  piece  of  the  com- 
pound, about  the  size  of  a  large  pea,  on  the  end  of  what 
resembled  a  bodkin,  and  held  it  over  the  flame,  twisting  it 


216  THE  SEAECH 

in  a  manner  to  prevent  it  from  falling  from  the  skewer-like 
utensil  he  held  in  his  hand,  while  he  was  preparing  it.  Tony 
nudged  his  two  associates  to  follow  him  in  a  tour  around 
the  basement.  Looking  into  the  bunks  as  they  passed,  many 
of  them  were  occupied  by  persons  of  both  sexes,  some  in 
a  comatose  condition.  Others,  who  were  still  smoking, 
gazed  at  their  visitors  in  an  imbecile  manner.  As  they 
reached  one  they  noticed  a  fairly  well-dressed  female,  lying 
with  her  face  to  the  wall.  Tony  unceremoniously  reached 
for  her  head  and  turned  her  face  to  the  front  for  inspection. 
Her  countenance  was  a  perfect  blank,  except  for  a  sickly 
smile  with  which  she  looked  at  her  visitor,  who  passed  on. 
In  other  of  the  lounging  places  were  other  females,  young 
and  old.  To  each  Tony  gave  a  casual  examination  to  see  if 
tJie  party  they  were  in  search  of  was  one  of  the  inmates. 

Howard  and  Hill  showed  some  impatience.  "Let  us 
get  out  of  here,"  exclaimed  Howard.     "This  is  horrible." 

"What  about  my  pipe?"  said  Tony,  laughing,  as  they 
reached  the  Chinaman,  who  had  been  cooking  the  coke. 
He  offered  the  pipe. 

"Never  mind,  John,  we  haven't  time,"  remarked  Tony 
to  him. 

The  Chinaman  looked  at  all  three  men.  His  counte- 
nance portraying  no  visible  expression  any  more  than  would 
have  had  a  wax  figure.  Reaching  the  street,  Howard  and 
Hill  took  a  deep  draught  of  the  fresh  morning  air  into  their 
lungs,  which  was  a  great  relief  to  both. 

"Awful!"  exclaimed  Howard.  Bob  Hill  was  dumb. 
He  seemed  as  if  he  was  prepared  for  anything. 

Tony  laughed  at  Howard's  exclamation,  "There's 
worse  than  that,"  he  remarked. 

"Hardly  possible,"  was  Howard's  rejoinder. 


THE  SEARCH  217 

As  they  went  down  Lake  street  Tony  stood  in  front 
of  a  saloon.  "This  is  a  tough  joint,"  he  remarked.  ''One 
of  the  worst,  but  the  fellow  has  a  pull,  in  fact  he  is  influ- 
ential in  city  affairs.  Let  us  go  in,  but  I  don't  expect  to 
find  Clem  here." 

' '  Let  us  go  in  anyhow, ' '  remarked  Hill,  in  his  eagerness 
to  keep  up  the  search.  As  they  approached  the  bar  they 
noticed  a  heavily  set  man,  showily  dressed,  with  a  massive 
gold  chain  across  his  breast,  extending  to  both  of  his  vest 
pockets,  with  a  large  pendant  hanging  from  the  center.  He 
was  surrounded  by  a  group  which  seemed  in  converse  with 
him,  and  appeared  to  be  enjoymg  the  conversation,  what- 
ever the  subject  was,  and  he  paid  no  attention  whatever  to 
the  three  men  who  had  just  entered. 

Howard  ordered  the  drinks.  ''I  must  have  a  little 
spirits,"  suggested  Hill,  ''I  don't  feel  well."  The  strain 
was  telling  on  his  vigorous  constitution. 

"Take  a  little  brandy,  then,"  suggested  Howard.  He 
and  the  guide  ordered  snitts  of  beer. 

They  were  but  a  short  time  at  the  bar,  when  an  elderly 
woman  approached  them  with  the  inquiry,  "Would  you 
gentlemen  like  to  go  upstairs?"  Howard  looked  at  Tony 
to  see  if  it  met  with  his  approval. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "we  will  go  up  in  a  few  minutes.  Will 
you  take  a  drink  with  us?" 

Howard  ordered  another  round,  after  which  the  dame 
led  them  toward  the  stairs.  "Fifty  cents  each,  please,"  she 
said,  as  she  approached  the  first  landing.  Howard  gave  her 
the  amount  demanded.  The  woman  opened  the  door  to  a 
large  room,  where  a  number  of  nude  women  sat  around  in 
different  postures — some  on  forms,  others  on  their  hunkers. 
One  in  particular  they  noticed  gibbering  to  herself.  An- 
other seemed  to  be  making  a  vain  attempt  to  climb  the  wall 


218  THE  SEARCH 

of  the  room.  On  the  countenance  of  all  the  women  was  a 
sickly  death-like  pallor. 

Howard  and  Hill  gave  a  hasty  glance  around  the  room. 
"Let  us  go,"  said  the  latter,  with  baited  breath. 

When  he  reached  the  street  Hill,  turning  to  Howard, 
said  with  vehemence,  "If  my  sister  was  in  a  place  like  that 
I  would  leave  her  there,  as  one  eternally  damned." 

"If  I  had  a  sister,"  said  Tony,  "in  a  place  like  that, 
bad  as  I  am,  I  would  kill  her.  They  ply  them  there  with  all 
the  dope  they  want;  they're  a  rotten  crowd,  and  the  man 
who  is  fascinated  with  a  group  like  that  should  be  unsexed. ' ' 

"That  place  reminds  me,"  said  Howard,  "of  Dante's 
lines:  'Whoso  enters  here  leaves  hope  behind!'  " 

"Where  else?"  said  Hill,  in  a  resolute  manner.  He 
looked  at  Howard  for  an  answer,  who,  in  turn,  looked  at 
Tony. 

"Just  as  you  please,"  Tony  remarked,  but,  with  a 
sudden  thought,  "I  would  like  to  try  one  more  place." 

"Then  let  us  go,"  said  Howard,  "for  I  am  beginning 
to  be  weary  of  this  horrible  experience." 

"This  is  the  place,"  remarked  Tony,  standing  in  front 
of  a  shabby-looking  ramshackle  of  a  building.  "This  fellow 
runs  a  black-and-tan  institution." 

"What  is  that?"  inquired  Howard. 

"He  mixes  the  blacks  and  whites.  We  want  to  be  care- 
ful here."  Entering  the  saloon  they  found  a  number  of 
men  and  women  at  the  bar,  both  Caucasians  and  Africans. 
The  negresses  looked  particularly  coarse.  Howard  felt  some 
scare  on  seeing  the  motley  group,  but,  being  once  in,  there 
was  nothing  left  but  to  go  to  the  bar  and  order  drinks.  The 
women  in  close  proximity  ordered  at  the  same  time.  How- 
ard tendered  a  bill.  The  man  behind  the  bar  not  only  took 
the  price  of  the  drinks  for  the  men,  but  for  those  ordered 


THE  SEARCH  219 

by  the  women  also.  Howard  looked  at  Tony,  who  just 
lifted  his  head  to  signify  there  was  no  use  complaining. 

Shut  off  from  the  bar  by  a  partition  was  a  room  in  the 
rear,  from  which  a  Babel  of  tongues  could  be  heard.  "We'll 
have  to  go  back,"  whispered  Tony,  "I  hear  there's  a  good 
crowd  behind."  As  the  three  men  entered  through  swing- 
ing doors,  three  of  the  women  followed  them  and  solicited 
drinks.  Howard,  though  chafing  under  their  undue  inso- 
lence, deemed  it  advisable  to  submit  with  the  best  grace 
possible,  and  looked  at  Hill  as  a  warning  to  him  to  curb 
his  temper. 

While  the  drinks  were  being  brought  Tony  took  a 
promenade  around  the  place,  as  if  in  search  of  some  one. 
On  returning,  he  hastily  took  his  drink,  saying,  "Let  us  go." 
Two  of  the  women,  who  were  colored,  remonstrated  saying, 
"What's  your  hurry?"  The  men  rose  to  go.  The  women 
went  out  in  advance  of  them.  As  they  entered  the  bar  on 
their  way  out  of  the  dive  the  two  colored  women  closed  in 
on  Howard.  The  largest  of  them  tried  to  grab  him  by  the 
shoulders,  while  the  other  laid  her  hand  on  his  watch  chain. 

"Let  go,  you  black  b !"  shouted  Tony,  striking  her 

on  the  ear  with  all  his  might.  She  fell  back  with  part  of 
Howard's  watch  chain  in  her  hand.  "And  you  too,"  yelled 
Tony,  striking  the  one  who  had  attempted  to  pin  Howard 
by  the  shoulders  full  in  the  face.  There  was  an  immediate 
rush  of  the  men  in  the  bar  room  to  the  place  of  conflict,  one 
yelling,  "Damn  you,  you  strike  my  women  I'll  cut  your 
heart  out."  Tony  stood  facing  the  colored  men,  at  the  same 
time  shouting  to  his  friends  to  get  out.  Hill,  seeing  Tony 
was  about  to  be  crowded  by  the  miscreants,  stood  his  ground, 
and  struck  right  and  left,  his  ponderous  fist  laying  low  all 
it  came  in  contact  with.  "Get  out!"  again  yelled  Tony, 
during  the  respite  for  the  moment  that  Hill's  fist  had  pro- 


220  THE  SEARCH 

dueed,  he  himself  backing  toward  the  door  as  rapidly  as 
he  could,  and  at  the  same  time  confronting  his  opponents 
in  as  threatening  a  manner  as  the  circumstances  warranted. 
The  cabman,  who  was  close  at  hand,  under  the  impression 
they  had  got  the  girl,  opened  the  door  of  his  cab,  ready  to 
receive  his  passengers.  ' '  Get  in  there ! ' '  yelled  Tony,  * '  never 
mind  me."  Howard  entered  the  cab.  Hill  hesitated  for  a 
moment.  "Get  in!"  shouted  Tony,  who  had  just  landed  on 
the  fellow  in  advance  of  the  gang.  The  cabman  pushed  Hill 
in,  slammed  the  door,  and,  jumping  on  his  seat,  struck  two 
of  the  contestants  who  were  within  reach  vicious  slashes 
across  the  face  with  his  whip,  and  then  striking  his  horses 
started  off  at  a  gallop.  Hill,  looking  out  of  the  window, 
saw  a  colored  man  with  a  knife  or  razor  in  his  hand  rush 
toward  Tony,  who  side-stepped  and  ran  for  it,  pursued  by 
a  half  dozen  negroes. 


FOUND  221 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
FOUND. 

The  cabman  made  a  detour  of  a  few  blocks  in  order  to 
throw  off  the  trail  the  vicious  crowd  which  made  a  show  of 
following  them.  "When  at  a  safe  distance  he  pulled  up  his 
horses,  so  as  to  ask  instructions. 

"Where  now?"  he  asked,  as  he  saw  Howard  put  his 
head  out  of  the  window  of  the  cab. 

"I  would  like  to  drive  around  to  Kanter's,  if  it  is  not 
too  late.  I  would  like  to  find  out  what  has  become  of  the 
young  man  we  had  with  us." 

"All  right,  but  I'll  have  to  drive  in  to  Peoria  street 
from  the  north;  it  is  hardly  safe  to  go  by  Lake  street." 

On  arriving  at  Kanter's,  Howard  instructed  Hill  to 
stay  in  the  carriage.  "I'll  go  in  and  find  out  what  I  can — 
I  won't  stay  any  time." 

On  entering  the  house,  he  looked  around  to  see  if  their 
guide  of  the  evening  was  present.  Not  noticing  him,  he 
went  over  to  where  Kate  Kanter  was  sitting  with  a  group 
of  men  and  girls. 

Kate,  recognizing  him,  said,  "What  luck?  Did  you 
find  her?" 

"No,"  he  whispered,  "we  had  a  row  in  one  place  we 
were  at,  and  we  got  separated  from  Tony.  I  thought  per- 
haps I  would  find  him  here," 

"He's  not  arrived  as  yet.    Will  you  wait?" 

"No,  but  if  he  does  come,  will  you  please  tell  him  we 
want  to  meet  him  here  at  10  in  the  morning?" 


222  FOUND 

"Yes,  I'll  tell  him." 

"Thank  you.  I  want  to  pay  for  a  drink  and  then  I'll 
be  going.  I  have  a  hack  outside  waiting  for  me."  He  then 
paid  for  three  bottles  of  beer,  enough  to  treat  the  group, 
and  left. 

On  reaching  the  cab  he  was  driven  back  to  the  hotel. 
There  he  paid  the  cabman  liberally,  notifying  him  that  if 
they  wanted  his  services  they  would  find  him  at  the  stand. 

That  morning,  before  going  to  bed,  the  two  friends 
had  a  consultation  as  to  what  would  be  their  future  line  of 
action,  both  recognizing  the  difficulty  of  the  proposition 
that  confronted  them. 

"I  don't  know  what  to  do  for  the  best,"  said  HilL  "I 
must  admit  I  am  very  much  disheartened." 

"Well,  we'll  sleep  on  it,"  said  Howard.  "I'm  done  up, 
so  I'll  go  to  bed.  We'll  have  time  to  talk  it  over  before  we 
see  our  guide  in  the  morning — that  is,  if  he  was  lucky 
enough  to  get  away  with  his  life." 

"I'm  ready  for  bed,  too,"  remarked  Hill,  "so  I'll  turn 
in.     Good  night!" 

The  following  morning  Howard  and  Hill  reviewed  the 
situation  at  some  length,  both  realizing  the  difficulty  that 
faced  them  from  the  fact  of  the  great  multiplicity  of  houses 
to  be  visited,  if  a  complete  search  of  all  had  to  be  made. 

"I'll  tell  you  my  opinion,"  said  Howard,  addressing 
his  friend,  "but,  in  advance  I  want  you  to  disabuse  your 
mind  if  you  have  any  such  thought  of  the  notion  that  I  am 
tired  of  the  pursuit.  My  time's  my  own,  and  I  am  willing 
to  keep  it  up  for  a  month  if  need  be,  but  we  can  do  better." 

' '  Well,  what  do  you  propose  ?  I  honor  your  judgment, ' ' 
said  Hill. 

"It  is  this:  If  we  go  around  the  same  as  we  did 
last  night  for  any  length  of  time,  and  she  gets  to  know  we 


FOUND  223 

are  looking  for  her,  she  would  go  any  length  to  avoid  us, 
and,  since  my  experience  with  the  j^oung  man  Kate  Kanter 
recommended,  I  think  we  might  safely  intrust  the  whole 
matter  to  him.  He  to  notify  us  by  telegraph  the  moment 
he  locates  her,  without  giving  her  the  slightest  inkling  that 
anyone  was  looking  for  her.  On  receipt  of  his  message  we 
could  take  the  next  train  and  get  her." 

''I  think  that's  the  best  possible  plan,"  remarked  Hill. 

''Then  let  us  get  away.  It  will  be  near  ten  when  we 
get  to  Kanter 's.  If  Tony  is  there,  I'll  make  all  the  arrange- 
ments." 

On  reaching  the  lobby  of  the  hotel,  Howard  secured  a 
couple  of  telegraph  blanks.  Reaching  Kanter 's,  Tony  was 
there  waiting  for  them.  He  laughed  when  he  saw  them 
coming  in. 

"That's  a  nice  scrap  you  got  me  into  last  night,"  he 
said,  smiling. 

"Well,  Tony,"  said  Howard,  shaking  hands  with  him, 
"I  must  admit  you're  some  scrapper." 

"Your  big  friend,"  looking  at  Hill,  "is  pretty  good 
with  his  dukes,  too,  but  the  trouble  with  that  crowd  that 
we  ran  up  against  last  night  is,  they  use  razors  on  a  man. 
That's  the  reason  I  shouted  for  you  fellows  to  get  out,  as 
I  knew  what  was  coming.  That's  why  I  soaked  the  two 
strong-arm  women.  They're  worse  than  the  men,  and  I 
knew  there  was  no  use  fooling  with  them." 

"You  did  nobly,  Tony,"  said  Howard,  "and  we  both 
feel  grateful  to  you."  Hill  smiled  his  indorsement,  and 
extended  his  hand  to  their  guide  of  the  night  before  as  a 
further  mark  of  his  approval. 

"Well,  Tony,  we  have  decided  to  change  our  program, 
and  I  am  here  to  make  a  proposition  to  you.  It  is  this :  We 
recognize  the  big  job  it  is  to  go  around  all  those  places,  and 


224  FOUND 

feel  that  we  can't  render  you  much  service,  and,  as  you 
know  her,  we  intend  to  leave  the  whole  matter  in  your 
hands.  You  to  telegraph  to  us  the  moment  you  locate  her, 
but  don't  say  a  word  to  her  about  us  looking  for  her.  We 
have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  if  we  went  around  many 
nights  with  you,  she  might  find  out  we  were  looking  for  her 
and  give  us  the  slip.  She's  terribly  nervous,  and  probably 
afraid  of  her  brother,  my  friend  here." 

Tony  looked  up  at  Hill,  it  being  the  first  intimation  he 
had  gotten  of  the  close  relationship  between  her  and  one 
of  the  men  he  had  been  with  the  night  before.  And,  to  his 
credit,  he  felt  a  deeper  interest  in  the  search. 

"Now,  we  know  you'll  be  put  to  some  expense,  and  I 
propose  to  allow  you  fifteen  dollars  a  week,  until  you  either 
find  her,  or  give  up  the  search,  and  my  original  proposition 
as  to  the  forty  dollars  as  soon  as  you  locate  her  holds  good. 
Now,  what  do  you  say?" 

"I  think  that's  all  right,  and  I'll  find  her  if  she  remains 
in  the  city.  Probably  I  may  have  to  go  over  to  the  north 
and  south  side  districts  and  maybe  to  South  Chicago — the 
Strand,  as  they  call  it  there,  is  one  of  the  worst." 

"What  we  want  you  to  do  then  as  soon  as  you  locate 
her  is  to  go  to  the  nearest  telegraph  office  and  send  this 
dispatch.  I  will  write  you  a  couple  now,"  pulling  the  blanks 
from  his  pocket  and  writing: 

"Matthew  Howard, 

B ,  Michigan. 

We  have  a  surplus  of  blankets  which  we  are  anxious 
to  dispose  of  that  will  suit  your  trade.  Come,  inspect,  and 
make  an  offer. 

JONES  &  CO., 
Market  St.,  Chicago." 


FOUND  225 

"As  soon  as  we  receive  your  message  we'll  come  by 
the  next  train  and  meet  you  here." 

"That's  simple  enough,"  remarked  Tony,  recognizing 
Howard's  practical  methods. 

"I  will  also  leave  you  some  envelopes  already  directed 
to  me,  marked  Personal,  in  which  you  can  occasionally  let 
us  know  of  your  progress.  I  wonder  if  they  have  any 
envelopes  here." 

"I  can  get  some  across  the  street,"  remarked  Tony. 

"Then  go  get  some  for  me,"  said  Howard,  "and  also 
some  stamps  if  they  have  any.     Here's  a  quarter." 

Tony  went,  and  soon  returned  with  both  stamps  and 
envelopes. 

Howard  directed  and  stamped  them,  writing  Personal 
on  each  in  a  large  round  hand.  "That  will  do  now,"  hand- 
ing them  to  Tony  and  telling  him  to  put  them  in  his  pocket. 
"You  understand  now?"  addressing  their  agent. 

"Perfectly." 

"Well,  here's  your  fifteen  dollars,  to  begin  with,  and 
this  day  week,  if  you  don't  telegraph  to  us  in  the  meantime, 
you  will  find  a  letter  here  waiting  for  you  with  fifteen  dol- 
lars enclosed." 

Howard,  looking  at  Hill,  asked,  "Is  there  anything  else 
you  can  think  of.  Bob?" 

"No,  I  think  that  covers  the  ground." 

"Well,  then  we'll  have  something  to  drink.  What  will 
you  take,  Tony?" 

"I  always  drink  beer." 

"Then  get  us  a  bottle."  The  regular  waiter  of  the 
establishment  not  coming  on  duty  until  night,  Howard  gave 
him  the  money  for  the  beer,  which  Tony  soon  produced, 
with  the  glasses. 


226  FOUND 

' '  Here 's  wishing  you  success ! ' '  said  Howard,  as  he  took 
his  glass  in  his  hand. 

''Thank  you,"  said  Tony.  ''I'll  find  her  if  she's  in 
Chicago." 

"I  would  like  to  see  Kate  before  I  go,"  remarked 
Howard. 

"I  don't  believe  she's  up  yet,  but  I'll  find  out." 

Tony,  on  returning,  said  she  'd  be  down  in  a  few  minutes. 
On  her  arriving,  Howard  thanked  her  for  the  assistance 
she  had  given  them.  "We  find  Tony  all  right,"  he  re- 
marked. "He  did  his  best,  and  I  have  secured  his  further 
service,  as  we  are  going  home  today." 

"Well,  boys,  when  you  come  to  town  don't  forget  to 
call,  and  if  I  hear  anything  I'll  let  you  know  when  you 
come." 

"We'll  see  j-ou  again,  but  should  you  find  anything  in 
reference  to  her,  you  tell  Tony.  He's  got  our  address. 
What  will  you  take  before  we  leave  you?" 

"It  is  too  early  for  me  to  take  anything.  I'll  wait  till 
you  call  again." 

' '  Then  we  '11  be  going,  but,  Miss  Kanter,  if  you  can  find 
out  anything,  you'll  find  that  we'll  appreciate  it.  So  good- 
bye!" They  shook  hands  and  parted,  Howard  and  Hill 
to  go  to  the  hotel,  settle  their  bill,  and  take  the  next  train 
to  B ,  both  sadly  disappointed. 

A  week  elapsed,  and  Howard  received  a  letter  from 
Tony.    It  read: 

"Have  searched  nearly  every  house  on  the  west  side, 
and  could  not  find  a  trace  of  her.  Am  going  to  South  Chi- 
cago tomorrow.  Received  the  fifteen  dollars  you  sent  me, 
for  which  accept  thanks.  Will  write  again  in  a  couple  of 
days.  Yours  truly,      Tony." 


FOUND  227 

Two  days  after,  Howard  received  another  letter :  ' '  Made 
a  thorough  search  of  every  crib  in  the  South  Chicago  regu- 
lated district.  Had  to  buy  beer  like  a  drunken  sailor.  The 
Judys  thought  I  was  a  customer  pining  for  some  of  them. 
Its  a  cheap  place  anyhow;  only  costing  a  quarter  a  throw 
for  the  beer.  No  one  there  ever  heard  of  her  and,  as  I 
located  every  recruit  they  had  got  within  the  past  month, 
I  feel  sure  she's  not  there.  Will  try  the  south  side  for  a 
couple  of  nights. — Tony." 

On  Howard  receiving  the  South  Chicago  letter  he  wrote 
Tony,  telling  him  to  persevere,  and  inclosed  a  ten-dollar 
bill  for  expenses,  with  further  instructions  not  to  be  shy  on 
funds,  but  find  the  girl  if  possible.. 

On  the  third  day  after  receiving  the  South  Chicago 
letter,  Howard  received  another: 

"Mr.  Howard. 

Dear  Sir: — I  am  sorry  to  have  to  say  that  I  made  a 
thorough  search  of  the  south  side  as  far  as  I  could,  without 
any  success.  I  begin  to  believe  she  must  have  left  the  city. 
During  my  tour  through  the  south  side  I  found  some  who 
knew  her,  but  none  could  give  me  any  information  as  to  her 
present  whereabouts.  Those  who  knew  her  said  she  used 
to  work  in  a  swell  joint  here,  but  that  she  was  fired  about 
a  year  ago.  Will  try  the  north  side  tonight  and  tomorrow, 
and  then  write  you  for  instructions.  Tony." 

Howard  saw  by  the  tenor  of  Tony's  letter  he  was  some- 
what disheartened,  so  he  wrote  him  a  letter  of  encourage- 
ment, inclosing  fifteen  dollars,  and  then  awaited  anxiously 
his  reply.  Hill  and  Howard  met  daily,  and  discussed  the 
tenor  of  Tony's  letters.  Hill  had  little  to  say.  He  was 
stolid  in  his  manner  since  the  first  tidings  of  Martha,  his 
usually  sociable  disposition  had  left  him,  and  he  read  Tony's 


228  FOUND 

letters  with  little  show  of  disappointment.  Not  so  with 
Matthew  Howard,  who  watched  the  mail  man's  arrival  with 
interest  and  anxiety.  On  the  arrival  of  a  letter  marked  ''Per- 
sonal,^' which  he  recognized  as  being  from  his  agent  in  Chi- 
cago, he  immediately  opened  it  in  advance  of  his  extensive 
correspondence.  After  reading,  he  stuffed  it  in  his  pocket, 
to  be  answered  if  necessary  at  the  earliest  opportunity. 
The  promised  letter  describing  Tony's  search  on  the  north 
side  he  waited  for  with  impatience.  It  arrived  on  a  Mon- 
day morning.  He  sorted  his  mail  in  his  private  office,  and 
when  he  came  across  it  he  ran  his  opener  beneath  the  flaps 
of  the  envelope,  his  hand  trembling  as  he  opened  it  and 
having  little  hope  of  hearing  of  the  lost  one.    It  read : 

"Mr.  Howard, 

Dear  Sir : — I  am  afraid  the  jig  is  up.  I  looked  through 
a  number  of  places  on  the  north  side,  but  could  learn  noth- 
ing about  her.  There  are  numerous  assignation  houses  and 
roomers  in  that  section,  but,  of  course,  I  could  not  get  access 
to  them,  so  I  confined  my  efforts  to  the  saloons  which  abound 
in  the  district,  and  interviewed  the  women,  none  of  whom 
had  ever  heard  of  her.  I  feel  now  that  I  have  done  the  best 
I  could,  and  don 't  feel  warranted  in  going  any  farther  with- 
out instructions.  My  own  opinion  is  that  she's  not  in  Chi- 
cago, a  conclusion  Kate  has  also  reached.  As  she  says, 
Clem  and  she  were  pretty  good  friends  and,  if  she  was  in 
the  city  she  would  surely  call  on  her.  Hoping  to  hear  from 
you  by  return  mail,  etc. 

Yours  truly,        Tony." 

Howard  placed  the  letter  in  his  pocket  just  as  Rachel, 
his  sister,  peered  into  his  private  office  and  said : 

"Matt,  are  you  not  coming  to  any  breakfast  this  morn- 
ing?   Everything  will  be  cold." 


FOUND  229 

"Yes,  Sis,  I'm  coming."  Rising  from  his  seat,  he  fol- 
lowed her  into  the  dining  room. 

The  morning  papers  lay  on  the  table  close  by  his  plate, 
and  like  many  business  men  he  invariably  read  them  at  his 
meals.  Picking  up  a  Chicago  paper,  on  the  front  page  he 
noticed  an  item  of  which  the  head  line  attracted  his  atten- 
tion.   The  caption  was: 

A  FLOATER 

"The  body  of  a  young  woman,  apparently  about  the  age 
of  23,  was  found  in  the  Chicago  river  on  Friday  morning, 
and  the  remains  were  taken  to  the  county  morgue.  There 
is  no  indication  that  she  met  a  violent  death,  as  no  marks 
were  found  on  her  person  except  a  slight  abrasion  on  her 
forehead,  which  was  caused  probably  by  contact  with  the 
abutment  of  the  bridge  near  which  she  was  found.  She  had 
on  a  print  dress,  very  short  in  the  skirt  for  a  woman  of  her 
years,  a  flannel  petticoat,  undershirt,  no  drawers,  and  low 
shoes.  There  were  no  marks  on  any  of  her  clothing  which 
would  lead  to  her  identity.  If  a  suicide,  it  could  not  be  a 
case  of  destitution,  as,  on  opening  her  dress,  a  twenty-dollar 
bill  was  found  next  her  skin." 

Matthew  Howard  turned  deathly  pale  as  he  laid  down 
the  paper.  His  sister  Rachel,  in  alarm,  said,  "What  is  it, 
Matt,  what  is  to  do  with  you?    You're  sick!" 

"Yes,  Rachel,  I  will  have  to  lie  down  for  a  while." 

Picking  up  the  paper  he  retired  to  his  room,  where  he 
wept  bitterly.  "My  poor  Martha!  My  love,  I  feel  you  are 
no  more!" 

His  sister  knocked  at  the  door,  but  he  refused  her  ad- 
mittance.   She  heard  him  sobbing. 

"Let  me  in,  Matt!"  she  said. 


230  FOUND 

**No,  let  me  alone." 

"Shall  I  send  for  the  doctor?" 

''No,  let  me  rest." 

Alarmed,  she  went  to  the  phone  and  calling  up  Robert 
Hill,  said,  "Bob,  call  in  at  noon.  I  am  afraid  there's  some- 
thing wrong  with  Matt." 


CLAIMED  231 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 
CLAIMED. 

The  noon-hour  whistle  at  the  mill  had  not  ceased  its 
shrill  notes,  when  Robert  Hill  set  out  to  find  what  the  trou- 
ble was  with  his  friend  Howard.  He  had  a  presentiment 
that  it  was  news  from  Chicago  in  reference  to  his  sister, 
and  felt  that  it  was  unsatisfactory,  from  the  tone  of  Rachel 
Howard's  call  for  him  to  come  during  the  noon  hour.  He, 
however,  had  steeled  his  mind  for  the  worst. 

On  nearing  the  store  he  observed  Rachel  at  the  door 
looking  in  the  direction  she  knew  he  would  come. 

"What's  up?"  inquired  Hill,  as  soon  as  he  got  within 
speaking  distance. 

"Matthew  is  very  sick,"  was  her  reply,  "and  he  won't 
let  me  send  for  the  doctor." 

"Where  is  he,  up  in  his  room?" 

"Yes." 

Without  further  delay  he  climbed  the  stairs  and,  with- 
out knocking,  pushed  the  door  open,  and  saw  Howard  re- 
clining on  a  couch  in  apparent  distress — a  newspaper  beside 
him. 

"What's  the  trouble  now?    Bad  news,  I  know!" 

Howard  handed  him  the  paper,  pointing  to  the  para- 
graph which  had  the  anonuncement  of  his  sister's  death. 
He  read  it,  every  word,  and  then,  looking  at  Howard,  Hill 
said,  "  'Tis  well." 

He  sat  down  for  a  moment,  and  then,  addressing  his 
friend,  exclaimed,  "I  will  go  to  Chicago  by  the  next  train." 


232  CLAIMED 

"It  is  terrible ! ' '  was  all  Matt  could  say. 

"I  would  rather  have  her  dead  than  an  inmate  of  one 
of  those  horrible  institutions  we  visited  the  other  night; 
so  brace  up,  as  I  will  want  you  to  go  with  me." 

"I  will  be  ready." 

"Then  I'll  go  back  to  the  mill  and  make  arrangements 
so  that  I  can  be  relieved  for  a  few  days.  I'll  call  for  you 
before  train  time."    With  that  he  took  his  leave. 

Howard  was  surprised  at  the  indifference  Bob  Hill  dis- 
played, his  impression  being  that  he  would  break  out  in 
parox3^sms  of  passion.  Howard's  chief  cause  for  anxiety 
Avas  that  he  had  not  played  his  part  well,  in  not  promising 
Martha  that  he  would  keep  her  secret  inviolate,  then 
notify  her  brother  as  to  the  true  conditions,  and  go  and 
secure  her.  He  said  to  himself,  if  a  deception  was  ever 
permissible  it  was  in  her  case,  and  much  as  he  tried  to 
justify  his  conduct  while  in  her  company,  still  he  could  not 
but  reproach  himself.  That  she  had  committed  suicide  he 
had  no  doubt,  and  he  felt  he  was  in  part  responsible.  So 
it  was  with  a  heavy  heart  he  accompanied  his  friend  to  the 
train  to  assist  in  seeing  to  the  remains  of  one  in  death  that 
he  had  admired  so  much  in  life,  with  all  the  ardor  of  a  lover 
in  his  young  manhood,  and  with  the  keenest  commiseration 
and  sympathy  in  the  hour  of  her  misfortune. 

While  on  the  train  the  two  friends  discussed  ways  and 
means  to  explain  their  identification  of  her.  This  was  one 
of  the  problems,  and  another  was,  how  to  shield  her  name 
and  explain  her  long  absence. 

"I  suppose  you  intend  to  bring  her  remains  home?'* 
inquired  Howard. 

"I  assuredly  do,"  said  Hill. 

"Well,  then  we'll  have  to  find  a  reason  for  her  absence, 
jiiid  T  am  going  to  save  her  reputation  at  all  hazards.    But 


CLAIMED  233 

the  first  thing  we'll  have  to  do  when  we  reach  the  city  is 
to  go  to  the  morgue,  as  I  don't  believe  they  keep  unclaimed 
bodies  there  any  length  of  time." 

On  arriving  at  the  morgue,  the  man  in  charge  was  in- 
formed that  they  expected  to  identify  the  remains  of  a 
woman  who  had  been  found  in  the  river. 

"That's  her  over  there,"  replied  the  man,  pointing  to 
a  receptacle  with  a  glass  cover,  through  which  the  face  of 
the  dead  could  be  seen.  The  other  portions  of  the  body 
were  covered  by  a  white  sheet. 

Both  men  recognized  the  corpse  at  the  first  glance, 
Howard  bursting  into  tears  and  turning  away  from  the 
sight.  Hill  looked  stolidly,  his  teeth  firmly  clenched,  his 
brows  knit.  "I  suppose  they  have  held  an  inquest?"  he 
inquired  of  the  morgue  keeper. 

"Yes,  sir,  it  was  an  open  verdict — death  by  drowning 
— but  there  was  no  evidence  as  to  how  she  got  into  the 
river. ' ' 

' '  Is  there  any  presumption  that  she  met  with  violence  ? ' ' 

"No,  none  at  all;  it's  a  clear  case.  Hood,  in  his  song 
of  the  Shirt,  amply  explains  it  in  the  lines: 

'One  more  unfortunate, 

Weary  of  breath. 
Rashly  importunate. 

Gone  to  her  death.'  " 

''Has  anyone  been  here  that  recognized  her?" 

"No,  sir,  there  has  been  quite  a  number  of  people  who 

looked  at  her,  but  not  one  who  ever  remembered  seeing  her 

before." 

"Well,  we  know  her,  and  have  come  to  claim  the  body." 
"Then  you'll  have  to  see  the  warden,  or  the  house 

physician,  if  the  warden  isn't  in." 


234  CLAIMED 

"Come,  Howard,"  said  Hill,  "brace  up.  We  have  no 
time  to  lose.    Where  is  the  physician  to  be  found?" 

"The  oflSce  is  on  the  second  floor." 

"Then  we'll  go  and  see  him  right  away." 

As  they  went  toward  the  stairs  leading  to  the  house 
physician's  office,  Hill  remonstrated  with  Howard.  "You'll 
have  to  brace  up,  Matt.    We've  a  lot  to  do." 

"I  can't  help  it.  Bob!" 

"Well  you'll  have  to  help  it.  Matt.  You're  a  business 
man,  and  I'll  want  your  help." 

"I'll  be  all  right  in  a  little  while." 

On  entering  the  office  of  the  house  physician,  that 
gentleman  treated  them  very  courteously. 

"What  can  I  do  for  you,  gentlemen?"  he  asked. 

Howard,  having  regained  his  composure,  advanced  in 
front  of  Hill. 

"Doctor,  do  you  remember  some  months  ago  having 
a  patient  here  by  the  name  of  Clementina  Montague?" 

"My  dear  sir,  we  have  so  many  patients  here  that  it  is 
hard  for  me  to  remember  the  names  of  any  except  those  of 
special  cases.     But  what  was  she  suffering  from?" 

"I  believe  it  was  a  venereal  trouble." 

"Then  she  must  have  been  in  the  lock  ward." 

"Yes,  I  thought  you  might  remember  her  by  the  singu- 
larity of  her  name." 

"Well,  I  have  a  faint  recollection  of  treating  a  woman 
by  a  name  something  similar  to  that,  but  you  see  those  girls 
that  are  brought  here  from  the  sporting  houses  have  as- 
sumed names  of  a  very  uncommon  character,  some  with  the 
object  of  disguising  their  identity,  and  others  adopting 
names  that  will  sound  either  more  euphonious  or  aristocratic 
than  those  of  their  fathers  or  husbands.  How  long  is  it 
since  she  was  here?    Of  course,  we  can  trace  her." 


CLAIMED  235 

"It's  probably  between  five  and  six  months." 

"Then  I'll  have  Miss  Murphy  down — she's  the  head 
nurse  in  that  ward,  and  perhaps  she  can  give  you  some 
information.  I  may  say,  however,  when  they  once  leave 
here  we  lose  all  track  of  them,  unless  they  take  sick  again 
and  have  to  come  back." 

Reaching  for  his  telephone  and  receiving  a  reply,  he 

said,  "Give  me  Ward  No.  ."    After  a  few  seconds  he 

said,  "Is  Miss  Murphy  there?"  "Yes."  "Please  tell  her 
I  would  like  to  see  her  in  my  office,"  He  hung  up  the 
receiver.    "She'll  be  down  in  a  few  minutes." 

"Doctor,  I  suppose  cases  like  Miss  Montague's  are  very 
numerous  in  a  city  like  Chicago?"  remarked  Howard,  while 
they  were  waiting  for  the  nurse. 

"Yes,  far  more  numerous  than  the  general  public  con- 
templates, and  they  are  the  forerunners  of  numerous  com- 
plaints, in  the  fact  that  those  suffering  from  the  contagion 
have  their  vitality  sapped,  which  makes  them  susceptible 
to  many  diseases,  especially  such  as  rheumatism,  tubercu- 
losis, locomotor  ataxia  and  other  ills  too  numerous  to  men- 
tion— but  here's  Miss  Murphy." 

"Miss  Murphy,"  said  the  physician,  addressing  her, 
"those  two  gentlemen  are  here  inquiring  about  a  patient 
of  yours  that  was  here  five  or  six  months  ago  by  the  name 
of "  looking  over  at  Howard  to  fill  in  the  name. 

"Clementina  Montague,"  said  Howard. 

* '  Yes,  I  remember  her, ' '  replied  the  nurse.  *  *  Don 't  you 
know,  doctor,  the  woman  who  had  the  brain  fever  and  you 
had  so  much  trouble  to  pull  through?" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  do  remember  her  now.  I  also  remember 
the  warden  and  I  went  to  some  trouble  to  find  where  she 
belonged,  but,  I  believe,  nurse,  we  failed,  didn't  we?" 

"Yes,  I  often  tried  to  listen  during  her  ravings  to  see 


236  CLAIMED 

if  I  could  glean  any  information  as  to  where  she  came  from, 
but  not  a  word — she  was  so  incoherent.  She  frequently 
called  upon  some  person  by  the  name  of  Bob  and  a  Matt 
Howard  to  come  and  save  her."  Howard  hastily  left  the 
room,  sobbing  bitterly. 

Hill  blinked  his  eyes,  knit  his  brows,  and  firmly  closed 
his  teeth,  so  as  to  suppress  his  feelings. 

Both  doctor  and  nurse  looked  inquiringly  at  Hill. 

"Probably  you  knew  her?"  said  the  doctor,  after  a 
lapse  of  a  few  seconds. 

''Yes,  we  knew  her  well.  She  was  lost  to  us  for  years, 
but  at  length  we  have  found  her." 

"I  am  glad  of  that,"  said  the  nurse,  "as  she  was  a 
lovable  character  and  an  excellent  patient.  She  told  me 
before  she  left  that  she'd  die  before  she'd  go  back  to  the 
life  she'd  been  leading." 

"Where  is  she  now?"  inquired  the  doctor. 

"In  the  morgue,"  was  Hill's  answer. 

"Too  bad !  Too  bad !"  as  the  doctor  looked  at  the  nurse. 

"I  must  go  see  her,"  said  the  nurse,  "I  am  sure  I  can 
tell  if  it's  she." 

Howard  returned  to  the  room,  anxious  to  bring  their 
interview  to  an  end.  "We've  come  to  claim  the  body,"  was 
his  first  remark. 

"Well,  I  feel  confident  you're  the  proper  parties,  and 
if  there  is  no  other  claimant  she  will  be  at  your  disposal. 
Nurse,  you  said  you  were  going  down  to  see  her?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Then  let  me  know  if  any  other  party  has  identified 
the  remains,  and  report." 

"Before  we  leave,  doctor,  we  want  to  thank  you  for 
your  courtesy,  and  probably  you  could  recommend  us  to  a 


CLAIMED  237 

good  undertaker,  who  would  take  care  of  the  body  and 
furnish  a  casket,  as  we  have  to  take  her  out  of  the  city." 

"Well,  there's  C.  B. close  by.  I  can  safely  recom- 
mend him." 

"Thank  you,  doctor.  Now  I  would  like  to  ask  you  a 
question  that  I  feel  confident  you  can  answer." 

"Maybe  not,"  said  the  doctor,  smiling,  "but  if  I  can 
I  will." 

"Well,  it  is  this:  Did  you  ever  know  of  cases  where 
persons  come  to  a  strange  city  and  lose  their  identity,  or 
did  not  remember  whence  they  came?" 

The  doctor  picked  up  a  piece  of  perfectly  blank  paper 
from  his  desk,  and,  looking  at  Howard,  said,  ' '  In  my  limited 
experience  I  have  known  cases  to  which  you  refer  where 
minds  were  as  void  as  that,  and  some  of  them  never  recov- 
ered their  reason — and  had  to  be  placed  in  institutions. 
Others  proved  useful  in  many  industrial  pursuits,  but 
knowledge  of  their  early  being  never  came  back  to  them. 
Of  course,  those  are  isolated  cases.  By  the  by,  I  must  know 
your  name." 

"I  am  the  Matthew  Howard  she  often  raved  about." 

"I  am  pleased  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Howard,  and  hope  to 
meet  you  again  under  more  agreeable  circumstances.  Now, 
Miss  Murphy,  you  go  down  with  those  gentlemen  and  see 
if  you  can  recognize  Miss  Montague's  remains." 

At  the  first  glance  Miss  Murphy  said,  "That's  she.  I 
would  know  her  among  thousands.  You  see  I  had  her  under 
ray  care  for  about  four  months." 

"During  that  time,  I  am  sure,  Miss  Murphy,"  said 
Howard  addressing  her,  "you  treated  her  considerately." 

"Yes,  I  took  kindly  to  her.  I  thought  she  was  very 
different  from  the  class  of  women  we  receive  from  such 
places." 


238  CLAIMED 

' '  Then,  Miss  Murphy,  I  would  like  you  to  do  me  a  favor. 
I  want  you  to  buy  a  pair  of  gloves  or  some  article  that  you 
can  use."  He  took  hold  of  her  hand,  and  placed  a  five- 
dollar  bill  in  it.  She  protested  that  that  wasn't  necessary, 
but  Howard  persisted. 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you  what  you'll  do  now.  You  go  over 
to  the  undertaker's  and  make  what  arrangements  you  de- 
sire, and  tell  him  to  call  for  the  body.  I  will  have  the 
doctor  make  out  the  necessary  certificate." 

Both  Hill  and  Howard  shook  hands  with  the  kindly 
little  woman,  and  sought  out  the  undertaker,  from  whose 
catalogue  they  selected  a  very  superior  casket. 

"I  will  have  her  properly  laid  out  in  my  mortuary 
chapel  tomorrow  morning,  subject  to  your  instructions." 

After  leaving  the  undertaker's,  Howard  said,  "Now, 
Bob,  we'll  go  over  to  Kanter's  and  find  out  if  they  have 
heard  of  Martha's  death;  if  they  haven't,  we'll  see  Tony, 
pay  him  a  little  money  I  owe  him,  and  tell  him  to  give  up 
the  search  for  her,  as  we  have  changed  our  minds  on  the 
matter." 

On  their  meeting  Tony  at  the  house  of  Kate  Kanter, 
he  was  emphatic  in  his  declaration  that  Clem  Montague  had 
left  the  city. 

"I  have  done  my  best,"  he  said,  "and  I  don't  think 
there  is  any  use  of  looking  farther.  If  I  should  happen  to 
hear  anything  about  her  I  can  telegraph  to  you." 

"We  are  well  satisfied  with  you,  Tony,  as  we  believe 
you  have  worked  faithfully,  and  that  there  is  no  use  looking 
farther  for  the  present ;  so  here 's  the  balance  of  the  money 
we  owe  you,  and  we  hope  you're  satisfied." 

"Perfectly.  I  am  only  sorry  I  could  not  have  won  that 
other  forty.  If  I  had  found  her  we  would  have  brought 
her  out  of  the  house  she  was  in  if  I  had  to  use  my  gun" — 


CLAIMED  239 

putting  his  hand  in  his  hip  pocket  and  pulling  our  a  very 
effective  looking  weapon. 

"It  can't  be  helped,"  remarked  Hill,  **so  there  is  noth- 
ing left  but  to  bid  you  and  Kate  good-bye.    Where  is  she?'* 

"I  will  bring  her." 

On  Kate's  arrival,  she  deplored  the  fact  of  their  not 
finding  her. 

' '  She 's  not  in  the  city,  in  my  opinion ;  but  if  she  is,  and 
we  can  locate  her,  you  will  hear  from  us." 

Both  Hill  and  Howard  thanked  her  for  the  interest  she 
had  displayed  and  left. 

That  night  at  the  hotel  the  two  men  discussed  the 
problem  as  to  how  best  break  the  news  of  her  being  found 
to  the  people  at  B ,  and  especially  to  her  parents. 

"I'll  tell  you  my  idea,"  said  Howard.  "We  should 
invoke  the  aid  of  Mr.  Peterson,  the  pastor.  He  was  deeply 
interested  in  her  as  one  of  his  choir,  and  is  a  constant  visitor 
at  your  house.  We  might  write  him  a  letter,  telling  him  of 
our  miraculous  discovery,  and  ask  him  to  break  the  news  to 
your  father  and  mother  in  as  gentle  a  manner  as  he  possi- 
bly can.  Of  course,  the  news  will  give  them  a  great  shock, 
but  there  will  be  some  consolation  in  knowing  they  can  at 
least  have  her  remains.  I  can  tell  a  white  lie  without  any 
scruples,  that  my  distress  at  the  breakfast  table  was  the 
result  of  hearing  of  her  death  in  the  hospital.  You  and  I, 
Bob,  are  too  well  known  in  town  for  any  one  to  question 
our  word,  and  if  there  are  any  explanations  to  be  made  you 
leave  that  to  me.    You  know  nothing  about  it." 

"I  think  that's,  the  best  thing  to  do,"  agreed  Hill. 

"You  see.  Bob,  they  will  have  the  news  a  day  or 
so  in  advance  of  our  arrival.  It  will  be  the  talk  of  the 
town,  and  the  neighboring  country.  The  subject  will  be 
thoroughly  discussed  in  advance  of  our  arrival  with  the 


240  CLAIMED 

body.  Many  conjectures  will  be  made,  but  the  sympathy 
every  one  in  the  district  will  have  for  your  parents  will,  in 
a  measure,  silence  the  gossippers,  and  when  they  come  to 
see  me,  as  assuredly  the}'  will,  I'll  tell  them  a  story  that 
there  will  be  trouble  to  refute." 

"Well,  start  in  and  write  your  letter,  Matt.  I  would 
like  to  get  it  away  as  soon  as  possible. ' ' 

Matt  immediately  started  to  frame  his  letter,  and  wrote 
as  follows : 

"Reverend  Thomas  Peterson. 

Dear  Sir: — I  feel  that  in  writing  you  this  letter  you 
will  receive  both  a  great  surprise  and  a  shock,  but  to  you, 
above  all  others,  myself  and  Mr.  Robert  Hill  will  have  to 
appeal  for  aid  in  this  very  sad  affair.  We  are  all  members 
of  your  church,  and  it's  part  of  your  mission  to  offer  your 
sympathy  and  advice  to  those  in  distress,  and,  knowing  you 
as  we  do,  feel  that  you  will  cheerfully  take  up  the  task. 

You,  of  course,  remember  Martha  Hill,  daughter  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Robert  Hill,  whose  departure  from  our  midst 
some  years  ago  caused  such  deep  gief  to  all  who  knew  her, 
and  to  know  her  was  to  love  her.  Well,  as  you  are  aware, 
when  she  left  us  to  come  to  this  city,  for  many  months  we 
anxiously  awaited  tidings  of  her,  but  none  came,  until  we 
ultimately  gave  up  all  hope  and  believed  her  dead.  No  other 
reason  could  be  assigned  for  her  long  silence,  as  she  was 
of  an  affectionate  disposition,  and  sincerely  devoted  to  her 
family  and  friends.  You  may  judge  my  surprise  and  con- 
sternation when  I  received  information -that  a  person  lying 
in  one  of  the  hospitals  in  this  city  had  a  memorandum 
on  her  person  with  my  name  and  address.  On  receiving 
the  notice  I  had  an  unaccountable  desire  to  investigate  who 
it  was,  and,  strange  as  it  may  seem  to  you,  I  had  a  presenti- 


I 


CLAIMED  241 

ment,  which  I  tried  hard  to  banish  from  my  mind,  that  it 
might  have  some  reference  to  our  dearly  beloved  friend. 
The  news  so  preyed  upon  me  that  I  took  sick  at  the  very 
thought,  and  conceived  an  irresistible  desire  to  investigate. 
So  I  induced  Bob  Hill  to  come  with  me.  When  we  reached 
the  hospital,  judge  our  consternation  to  find  the  remains  of 
our  lost  friend.  She  had  died  the  day  before.  On  our  arrival 
with  the  body  I  will  give  further  explanation.  In  the  mean- 
time, in  advance  of  our  coming,  we  want  you  to  break  the 
sad  news  to  her  parents,  and  offer  them  such  consolation 
and  comfort  in  their  hour  of  tribulation,  as  we  know  you 
can. 

Sincerely  and  respectfully  yours, 

Robert  Hill,  and 
Matthew  Howard." 

Hill  heartily  approved  the  letter,  which  was  duly  mailed. 


242  HOME  AT  LAST 

CHAPTER  XXX. 
HOME  AT  LAST. 

Early  the  following  morning,  Hill  and  Howard  set  out 
for  the  undertaker's  to  view  the  body.  Both  men  gazed 
long  and  pensively  at  the  remains.  The  undertaker  stood 
by  to  hear  their  approval  of  his  work,  and  to  receive  further 
instructions. 

"You  have  surely  done  your  work  well,"  remarked 
Hill. 

"We  always  try  to  do  our  best,"  said  the  party  spoken 
to.  "You  see  she  was  somewhat  discolored  and  the  face 
partly  bloated — she  must  have  been  dead  some  days." 

"Probably  so,"  remarked  her  brother,  "still  I  must  say 
under  the  circumstances  you  have  done  well.  I  like  the 
robe  very  much,  and  the  way  she  is  laid  out.  The  casket 
is  also  very  fine." 

"Well,  your  friend,"  turning  to  Howard,  "gave  me 
carte  blanche  to  spare  no  expense.  Still  I  think  you  will 
find  my  bill  reasonable.  There  is  a  matter,  however,  that 
I  think  should  be  attended  to  before  we  close  up  the  coffin, 
and  that  is,  we  need  some  emblem  of  her  faith.  If  you  let 
me  know  what  religion  she  professed  I  will  furnish  it." 

Hill,  who  up  to  this  time  had  acted  as  spokesman, 
remained  silent,  his  reason  being,  that,  since  learning  the 
facts  of  his  sister's  betrayal  and  persecution,  he  had  become 
somewhat  of  an  agnostic. 

Howard,  noticing  his  silence,  answered  the  undertaker's 
inquiry. 


HOME  AT  LAST  243 

"She  was  a  member  of  The  Reformed  Evangelical 
Church. ' ' 

"Then  I  will  try  to  secure  something  appropriate." 

"You  can  come  into  the  office,"  remarked  Howard, 
"and  I  will  pay  you  your  account." 

The  bill  having  been  settled  and  deemed  satisfactory, 
Hill  gave  the  undertaker  instructions  to  have  the  coffin 
properly  boxed  up  and  at  the  depot  at  12  o'clock  sharp. 

Few,  if  any,  of  this  particular  faith,  C.  B ,  the  un- 
dertaker, had  ever  occasion  to  bury,  and,  failing  to  find 
anything  distinctively  identified  with  her  church,  furnished 
instead  a  neat  edition  of  the  book  of  Common  Prayer,  be- 
lieving that  the  Reformed  Evangelical  Church  was  but  a 
branch  of  the  numerous  Protestant  organizations. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Peterson,  with  a  sorrowing  heart,  broke 
the  news  as  gently  as  he  could  to  the  bereaved  parents  of 
the  long  lost  girl.  The  old  couple  were  prostrated  by  the 
recital.  All  three  sat  in  silence  for  a  time,  the  reverend 
gentleman  being  too  much  oppressed  himself  to  offer  the 
consolation  he  intended.  When  the  old  couple  regained 
somewhat  their  composure,  he  would  extend  condolence. 
Hill  senior  began  to  ply  him  with  questions  as  to  where  she 
had  been,  who  found  her,  why  did  she  not  write,  or  come 
home;  to  all  of  which  his  answer  was,  "We'll  not  know 
much  until  Robert  and  Matt  come  back,  and  then  they  will 
explain  all.  I  believe,  however,  God  has  been  good  in  restor- 
ing her  body  to  us.  We  will  at  least  know  where  she  rests 
in  peace." 

The  old  proverb  that  "111  news  travels  fast"  was  veri- 
led  in  the  case  of  Martha  Hill.  Before  an  hour  had  passed 
people  stood  in  groups  discussing  the  news. 

"Martha's  been  found!'"  was  the  utterance  proclaimed 
from  mouth  to  mouth.    The  children  in  the  schools  who  lived 


244  HOME  AT  LAST 

some  distance  from  the  center  ran  home  with  haste  to  in- 
form their  parents.  To  every  person  they  met  on  the  way 
they  shouted,  "They've  found  Martha!  or,  "They've  got 
Martha!"  Some  added,  "She'll  be  home  today!"  while 
others  gave  different  versions  to  those  they  met,  which  had 
to  be  brief,  as  they  were  in  great  haste  to  inform  their 
parents  of  the  startling  news. 

The  men  at  the  mill,  on  receiving  the  first  news  of  her 
being  found,  were  not  informed  of  her  death,  and  rejoiced 
for  Bob's  sake,  but  when  later  informed  of  her  being  dead 
a  corresponding  depression  permeated  the  entire  works. 

"Too  bad!  Too  bad !"  was  a  frequent  exclamation.  "I 
am  sorry  for  Bob." 

"How  he  loved  that  girl  and  grieved  over  her  loss!" 
said  the  manager  of  the  mill  to  a  group  who  had  congregated 
in  the  office.  Just  then  a  messenger  boy  arrived  with  a 
telegram.    It  was  brief: 

"Mr.  . 

Union  Mills, 

B ,  Michigan. 

Will  arrive  in  B by  the  train  due  at  3 :30  p.  m. 

Robert  Hill." 

"Then  we'll  close  down  at  3  o'clock,"  said  the  manager 
to  those  present.  "Notify  the  assistant  engineer,  and  tell 
those  in  your  different  departments." 

Long  before  train  time,  the  people  stood  around  in 
groups.  Many  were  the  suggestions  advanced  for  her  long 
absence,  all  vague  and  far  from  the  truth.  None,  however, 
doubted  her  virtue.  They  only  knew  her  as  the  fond  daugh- 
ter, the  good,  sociable,  religious  girl,  the  general  conclusion 
being  that  she  must  have  met  some  accident  that  prevented 
her  from  communicating  with  her  friends.    "Perhaps,"  con- 


HOME  AT  LAST  245 

jectured  one,  "she  has  been  in  some  institution  all  the  time." 
All,  however,  waited  in  suspense  to  hear  the  facts  in  the 
case  after  the  arrival  of  her  brother  and  sweetheart,  as  they 
knew  Matt  Howard  was. 

The  manager  of  the  mill  had  selected  six  of  his  men  to 
aid  in  carrying  the  body,  notifying  them  to  rush  home  and 
dress  up. 

The  question  of  where  the  remains  should  find  a  tem- 
porary resting  place  was  discussed  by  him  and  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Peterson,  both  of  whom  interviewed  the  old  couple  as  to 
where  they  desired  her  to  be  placed. 

''What  do  you  think  for  the  best?"  inquired  Mr.  Hill 
of  the  manager  of  the  mill. 

"This  cottage  of  yours  is  very  small,"  was  his  answer. 

''I  want  her  to  be  brought  right  home,"  said  the  mother, 
between  her  sobs. 

The  manager  of  the  mill  looked  at  his  reverence,  who 
was  mute  on  the  subject. 

"I  would  like  to  make  a  suggestion,"  said  the  mill  man, 
''if  agreeable.  The  whole  countryside  is  interested  in  at 
least  getting  a  look  at  her,  the  depot  is  crowded  already, 
and  if  you  bring  her  remains  here  there  will  be  a  jam  and 
a  number  of  people  will  be  disappointed.  What  I  would 
suggest  is,  that  she  be  placed  in  the  chancel  of  the  church, 
and  all  those  who  wish  to  view  the  remains  will  get  an 
opportunity." 

"I  think  that's  the  best,"  said  Hill  senior,  looking  at 
his  wife,  who  offered  no  objection,  and  it  was  agreed. 

When  the  train  hove  in  sight,  the  town  marshal  and  his 
aids  had  great  difficulty  in  keeping  the  people  assembled 
clear  of  the  danger  line.  The  youngsters  were  extra  trouble- 
some, having  to  be  driven  from  the  track  repeatedly.  Prefer- 
ence was  shown  to  the  women  and  girls  who  had  assembled. 


246  HOME  AT  LAST 

many  of  them  having  been  brought  up  together,  attending 
the  same  school  and  church.  The  manager  of  the  mill,  who 
had  assumed  the  responsibility  of  conducting  the  remains  to 
the  church,  was  surrounded  by  his  six  assistants. 

Howard  was  the  first  to  leave  the  train,  followed  by 
Hill.  Without  a  word  they  went  to  the  rear  where  the 
baggage  coach  was  situated,  the  manager  of  the  mill  and  his 
assistants  following  behind  in  respectful  silence.  The  rail- 
way men  were  already  unloading  the  box  containing  the 
casket. 

The  manager  of  the  mill  had  a  conversation  with  Robert 
and  Howard  in  reference  to  where  the  remains  should  be 
taken,  Hill  glancing  at  the  crowd  which  was  pressing  around 
on  every  side,  and  recognizing  the  practicability  of  the  plan 
suggested. 

The  engineer  began  to  toll  his  bell  for  the  crowd  to 
stand  clear  so  that  the  train  might  speed  on  its  way;  the 
railway  porters  at  the  little  depot  had  trouble  to  keep  the 
course  of  the  train  clear,  as  the  crowd  in  its  eagerness  to 
see  what  M^as  going  on  were  too  close  to  the  danger  line. 
This  was  particularly  true  of  the  urchins,  some  of  whom  had 
taken  possession  of  the  steps  of  the  passenger  coaches  as  a 
point  of  vantage.  At  length  the  course  was  clear,  and  the 
train  went  on  its  way,  the  engineer  ringing  his  bell  as  if  in 
solemn  tones  far  longer  than  usual.  Even  after  the  train 
was  out  of  sight  the  dismal  tones  of  the  bell  could  be  heard, 
as  if  it  were  a  funeral  dirge. 

Finally  six  stalwart  men  raised  the  box  on  their 
shoulders,  and  the  march  to  church  began.  The  Rev.  Mr. 
Peterson  led  the  procession.  By  his  side  was  the  manager. 
Then  followed  Hill  and  Howard.  Behind  them  the  men 
carrying  the  box  containing  the  casket  came,  and  then  the 
long  line  of  friends  and  citizens,  the  men  with  heads  un- 


HOME  AT  LAST  247 

covered  and  the  women  and  girls,  many  with  their  hand- 
kerchiefs to  their  eyes,  sobbing  bitterly.  Howard  had  hard 
work  to  suppress  his  feelings.  Not  so  Robert  Hill,  who 
marched  head  erect,  his  lips  firmly  set,  looking  neither  to 
the  right  nor  left,  but  manifestly  a  man  who  had  a  resolve 
on  his  mind  that  nothing  could  dislodge.    And  so  he  had. 

On  the  cortege  arriving  at  the  church  the  edifice  was 
more  than  half  filled  in  advance.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hill  sat  in 
the  front  pew,  with  a  number  of  the  old  neighbors  in  close 
proximity.  As  the  head  of  the  procession  entered,  the  peo- 
ple assembled  all  rose,  and  mourning  and  sobbing  were  pain- 
fully distinct.  On  the  bearers  of  the  box  reaching  the  little 
altar  they  laid  the  box  on  the  trestle  already  placed  there 
for  the  purpose. 

The  church  was  soon  filled  to  its  utmost  capacity.  The 
usher  of  the  church  furnished  a  screw  driver  so  as  to  remove 
the  casket  from  the  box,  an  operation  the  manager  of 
the  mill  undertook.  The  box  being  opened,  the  casket  was 
substituted  in  its  place,  when  all  those  present  gazed  on 
it  with  commiseration.  The  sliding  window  which  was 
placed  so  as  to  permit  a  view  of  the  face  and  bust  hav- 
ing been  opened,  Rev.  Mr.  Peterson  stood  on  the  little  plat- 
form in  front  of  the  altar  and  at  the  head  of  the  casket, 
and  said,  "Let  us  pray."  After  the  prayer  he  continued: 
' '  The  funeral  arrangements  of  our  dearly  beloved  sister  will 
be  announced  in  the  near  future.  In  the  meantime  it  has 
been  decided  by  the  family  of  the  deceased  that  the  remains 
shall  repose  here,  so  that  all  who  knew  her,  and  to  know 
her  was  to  love  her,  may  have  an  opportunity  to  view  the 
body.  I  would  respectfully  request,  however,  that  the  be- 
reaved family,  commencing  with  her  parents,  be  the  first, 
as  they  have  had  no  opportunity  as  yet  to  gaze  upon  the 
dearly  beloved  departed  since  the  arrival  of  her  remains  in 


248  HOME  AT  LAST 

town."  The  entire  audience,  except  those  known  to  be  of 
immediate  relationship,  kept  their  seats.  The  scenes  that  fol- 
lowed were  heartrending.  Robert  Hill  had  to  support  his 
aged  mother  as  she  gazed  through  her  tears  upon  the  girl, — 
ever  good,  and  in  whom  all  had  great  hopes.  The  manager 
of  the  mill  placed  his  arm  under  that  of  the  father,  who 
showed  symptoms  of  collapse.  After  a  few  moments,  the  old 
couple  were  led  to  the  exit  of  the  church.  Then  followed  the 
immediate  relatives,  all  in  deep  distress.  The  crowd  stood  in 
awe  as  they  saw  Matt  Howard  leading  his  sister  Rachel  by 
the  arm.  At  the  first  sight  of  the  remains  she  went  into 
hysterics — ^her  heart  had  failed  and  she  had  to  be  carried 
from  the  church.  Then  followed  the  younger  members  of 
the  Howard  family,  known  by  all  assembled  to  be  the  closest 
and  oldest  friends  of  the  bereaved.  At  length  the  neighbors 
who  were  all  friends  formed  in  procession  around  the  casket 
and  retired  from  the  church,  so  as  to  give  those  still  waiting 
the  coveted  opportunity  of  seeing  the  long  lost  girl  whom 
many  present  knew  from  childhood. 

When  Robert  Hill  and  the  manager  of  the  mill  had  con- 
ducted Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hill  home,  both  the  old  people  were 
too  grief  stricken  to  ask  any  questions. 

"Mother,"  said  Robert,  "I  will  have  to  leave  you  for 
a  little  while.  I  must  go  over  and  see  Matt.  We  have  a 
good  deal  to  do  yet."  He  kissed  his  mother,  who  placed  her 
arms  around  his  neck,  and,  then  turning  to  the  manager  of 
the  mill,  who  remained  aside,  Hill  said,  "Mr.  Robinson,  I 
am  deeply  indebted  to  you  for  your  kindness." 

"Don't  mention  it,  Bob.  I  am  heartily  sorry  for  the 
distress  of  you  and  your  family,  and  anything  I  can  do 
for  you  just  let  me  know — I  am  at  your  service."  He  then 
took  his  leave,  after  taking  the  hand  of  both  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Hill,  his  looks  betraying  his  grief. 


HOME  AT  LAST  249 

The  family  doctor  of  the  Howards  had  followed  Rachel 
and  her  brother  to  their  home,  feeling  he  would  have  to 
give  some  attention  to  the  girl.  On  Hill's  arrival,  he  found 
Matt  in  his  room,  the  store  having  been  closed  on  the  news 
arriving  of  Martha's  discovery  and  death. 

''Matt,  I  have  come  to  see  what  arrangements  we  will 
have  to  make  for  Martha's  burial." 

"Well,  Bob,  the  sooner  the  better.  Your  family  have 
had  no  occasion  to  secure  a  burial  lot.  I  should  like  you  to 
get  one  as  near  ours  as  possible  and,  if  you  cannot  do  that, 
as  we  have  a  large  tract,  I  would  like  you  to  accept  a  por- 
tion of  ours." 

"I'll  see,"  said  Hill,  "but  where  is  Rachel?  I  would 
like  to  consult  her. ' ' 

"She's  in  her  room.  The  doctor  is  attending  to  her, 
but  he  says  she  will  be  all  right  when  she  gets  a  good  cry 
over.    So  we  will  have  to  let  her  alone." 

"Then  there  is  another  matter  I  want  to  talk  to  you 
about.  Since  you  discovered  my  sister  you  have  been  to  a 
good  deal  of  expense  and  I  want  to  know  how  much  it  has 
been  so  that  I  can  pay  you." 

"Robert,"  looking  at  him,  "you  know  I  would  do  a 
lot  for  you  or  your  family,  but  there's  one  thing  I  will  not 
do,  and  that  is,  let  you  know  what  it  has  cost  me,  and  I  will 
tell  you  my  reason.  I  blame  myself,  in  a  great  measure,  for 
Martha's  misfortune.  The  day  she  left,  before  she  placed 
her  foot  on  the  step,  I  should  have  taken  her  in  my  arms 
and  said,  'I  refuse  to  let  you  go,'  and  held  her  in  my  grasp 
till  the  train  went  by.  She  was  then  the  whole  world  to  me, 
but  I  had  to  let  her  have  her  own  way,  confident  we  would 
soon  have  her  back." 

"None  of  us  could  have  had  any  other  thought,  Matt. 
So  I  don't  believe  you  should  reproach  yourself." 


250  HOME  AT  LAST 

' '  Yes,  but  I  do.  Another  blunder  I  hold  myself  respon- 
sible for  is  that  when  I  found  her  in  Kanter's,  I  should  have 
gone  and  sworn  out  a  warrant  for  her  under  some  pretext, 
and  have  had  her  arrested,  or  lied  to  her  that  I  would 
never  give  her  away,  that  I  would  keep  her  secret  until 
we  had  time,  you  and  I,  to  get  her,  but  I  could  not  do 
that,  as  my  mind  was  bent  on  providing  for  her  after  we 
had  rescued  her,  as  I  felt  confident  we  would,  and  now  I 
feel  all  is  lost,  and  when  we  bury  her  my  heart  will  be  in 
the  same  grave."  With  that  he  burst  into  tears.  "Robert, 
she  sang  her  swan  song  to  me  that  night — I  forgot  to  men- 
tion it  to  you." 

"Matt,  don't  blame  yourself  for  anything.  I,  her 
brother,  cannot  see  that  you  were  a  particle  to  blame,  and 
what  has  happened  could  not  have  been  foreseen.  I  don't 
think,  however,  you  should  be  permitted  to  bear  so  much 
expense.    You  know  I  can  pay  you." 

"Now,  Bob,"  impatiently  rejoined  Matt,  "drop  that 
subject ;  and,  if  you  want  to  remain  my  friend,  never  men- 
tion it  again.    Let  us  talk  about  laying  her  at  rest." 

"Well  what  do  you  suggest?" 

* '  That  you  consult  your  parents  as  to  the  burial  lot,  and 
tell  them  at  the  same  time  that  I  own  more  space  than  ever 
we'll  require,  and  that  I  would  like  to  share  it  with  them 
so  that  we  can  take  care  of  the  plot  where  all  we  love  may 
lie  together." 

"When  do  you  think  the  funeral  should  take  place, 
Matt?" 

"Tomorrow.  There's  no  time  to  lose.  She's  now  been 
dead  a  long  time,  and  will  probably  fail  rapidly.  So  make 
arrangements  for  two  o'clock  tomorrow.  The  mill,  I  un- 
derstand, is  going  to  close." 

The  funeral  of  Martha  Hill  was  an  imposing  event. 


HOME  AT  LAST  251 

The  respect  all  had  for  the  bereaved  family  and  the  painful 
circumstances  of  her  mysterious  disappearance  and  unac- 
countable absence  aroused  the  sympathy  of  all  the  country 
round.  People  flocked  to  the  church,  where  the  customary 
services  for  the  dead  were  observed.  Those  who  had  gar- 
dens depleted  their  stock  to  bury  her  casket  in  flowers. 

The  graveyard  being  a  mile  from  the  church,  six  stalwart 
men  employees  of  the  mill,  fellow-workmen  of  her  brother, 
were  assigned  to  carry  the  casket.  Eight  girls,  former  mem- 
bers of  the  choir,  dressed  in  white,  acted  as  pall-bearers  and 
walked  beside  the  coffin.  The  sorrowing  friends,  led  by  the 
aged  parents,  then  Robert  Hill  and  one  of  his  sisters,  fol- 
lowed by  the  younger  members  of  the  family,  then  Matthew 
Howard  and  his  sister  Eachel,  dressed  in  deep  black.  Im- 
mediately behind  them  the  friends  and  neighbors,  men  and 
their  wives  in  pairs.  Then  came  the  men  from  the  mill,  each 
bearing  on  his  breast  a  badge  with  the  inscription, 

IN  MEMORIAM 

For 

MARTHA  HILL 

Whose  Loss  We  All  Mourn. 

Then  followed  a  promiscuous  crowd  of  men  and  women, 
boys  and  girls.  At  the  end  of  the  procession  came  a  hayrack 
loaded  with  flowers.  The  services  at  the  grave  were  brief; 
tears  were  shed  and  sobs  heard.  Matthew  Howard  being  in 
great  distress,  the  hearts  of  his  neighbors  went  out  to  him, 
as  nearly  all  knew  the  terrible  loss  he  had  sustained. 

Robert  Hill  stood  immutable  as  a  rock.  He  had  no  tears 
to  shed,  he  looked  beyond  the  grave,  he  had  an  obligation 
to  fill,  a  duty  to  perform.  The  last  rites  concluded,  the 
gravediggers  grasped  their  shovels,  and  filled  the  grave,  in 
which  lay  the  mortal  remains  of  MARTHA  HILL. 


252  AN  EXPLANATION 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 
AN  EXPLANATION. 

The  night  of  the  day  on  which  the  funeral  of  Martha 
Hill  took  place,  Howard  and  her  brother  had  a  conference 
as  to  how  to  explain  their  knowledge  of  her  whereabouts  at 
the  time  of  her  death,  and  also  as  to  what  information  they 
had  as  to  where  she  was  during  her  absence  of  four  years 
and  her  reason  for  not  communicating  with  them. 

"You  leave  it  to  me,  Robert.  You  know  I  have  already 
mentioned  to  you  about  my  getting  a  communication  inform- 
ing me  of  a  sick  woman  having  a  memorandum  on  her  per- 
son with  my  name  and  address,  and  the  effect  such  informa- 
tion had  on  me.  That's  a  fairly  plausible  story,  and  there 
is  none  likely  to  question  it,  especially  those  who  know  of 
the  bond  of  sympathy  and  love  that  existed  between  us. 
As  to  her  doings  during  her  long  absence,  that  is  a  blank 
which  I  intend  to  account  for  in  this  way:  immediately 
after  her  arrival  in  Chicago  she  either  met  an  accident 
that  destroyed  her  mentality,  or  it  was  one  of  those  cases, 
of  which  there  are  many,  where  persons  through  some  great 
grief  or  unaccountable  cause  lose  their  memory  and  forget 
both  their  name  or  the  place  they  came  from.  You  remem- 
ber the  question  I  put  to  the  doctor  in  reference  to  that 
subject  and  the  answer  he  gave  me.  A  to  her  being  brought 
to  the  hospital,  I  intend  to  inform  those  who  seek  informa- 
tion that  she  was  brought  there  by  the  members  of  a  very 
poor  family  who,  some  weeks  before,  had  taken  her  in  for 
charity  sake,  believing  her  to  be  some  harmless  imbecile, 


AN  EXPLANATION  253 

homeless  and  friendless,  and  that  during  the  time  she  was 
with  them,  though  cleanly  and  industrious,  her  mind  was 
a  blank  as  to  her  real  name  or  former  place  of  abode." 

"It  pains  me  much,  Matthew,  for  you  to  have  to  tell 
such  a  story  about  my  sister,  but  we  cannot  tell  the  truth. 
It  would  kill  my  father  and  mother,  and  would  be  a  scandal 
of  such  proportions  that  I  am  afraid  we  would  all  have  to 

leave  B .     The  question  of  her  persecution  would  never 

offset  the  facts  in  the  minds  of  the  people  here  —  they 
wouldn't  believe  such  things  possible." 

''You  never  mind,  Robert.  You  leave  it  to  me.  The 
men  around  the  mill,  realizing  your  distress,  are  not 
likely  to  pester  you  with  questions,  and,  ere  this  time  to- 
morrow night,  I  will  have  satisfied  the  curiosity  of  many 
people,  who  in  turn  will  tell  the  story  to  others,  and  put 
such  interpretation  on  it  as  their  minds  will  suggest,  none 
of  which  will  have  the  remotest  semblance  of  the  facts  in  the 
case.  The  first  to  whom  I  will  have  to  explain  matters  will 
be  your  father  and  mother,  who,  I  know,  are  the  most 
anxious  to  hear  from  me.  I  will  be  over  first  thing  in  the 
morning.  You  can  tell  them  tonight  of  my  coming  so  go 
home  and  rest." 

"Yes,  I  need  to.  I  am  fairly  worn  out,  and  intend  to 
report  for  work  in  the  morning." 

Matthew  Howard  arrived  at  the  Hill  cottage  early  on 
the  morning  after  the  funeral,  and  told  a  concise  and  plausi- 
ble story  to  the  old  people,  who  listened  with  breathless 
interest. 

"My  poor  child!"  was  all  the  mother  could  exclaim, 
while  tears  ran  down  the  father's  cheeks.  The  Rev.  Mr. 
Peterson  came  in  during  the  recital,  and  innocently  sub- 
stantiated Howard's  narrative,  by  saying  he  had  read  of 


254  AN  EXPLANATION 

cases  of  a  similar  character  where  persons  had  forgotten 
their  identity. 

During  the  day  Matthew  Howard  had  many  inquirers, 
to  all  of  whom  he  told  a  story  similar  to  that  he  had  told 
Martha's  parents.  None  there  were  who  doubted  his  word. 
Why  should  they?  What  possible  reason  could  he  have  to 
deceive  her  relatives  and  friends?  He  was  a  man  of  char- 
acter and  probity,  whom  to  know  was  to  respect.  Ere 
twenty-four  hours  had  passed  the  whole  community  was 
enlightened  as  to  the  facts  as  far  as  they  could  be  learned. 
And  as  the  whole  people  of  the  city  and  surrounding  coun- 
try respected  both  the  families  of  the  Hills  and  Howards  as 
old  and  respected  citizens  of  the  community,  and  as  there 
was  no  villain  in  the  plot  to  create  suspicion  as  to  the 
veracity  of  Matt  Howard's  statement,  it  was  unanimously 
accepted  as  the  truth,  and  as  the  old  proverb  says:  "Ere 
nine  days  were  over  it  ceased  to  be  a  wonder." 

Hill  took  his  place  in  the  mill  the  next  morning.  His 
mates,  knowing  his  distress,  never  broached  the  subject. 
They  knew,  or  thought  they  knew,  that  he  had  little  informa- 
tion to  disclose,  so  refrained  from  talking  over  a  subject 
that  all  knew  must  be  painful  to  him.  At  the  conclusion  of 
the  day's  work,  when  the  men  got  home  Matt  Howard's 
story  was  there  in  advance  of  them.  If  married  men,  their 
wives  or  daughters  awaited  impatiently  their  coming  to 
inquire  from  them  if  they  had  any  further  particulars  and 
to  unburden  themselves  of  the  gossip  they  had  heard  dur- 
ing the  day  and  to  tell  the  Howard  version  of  the  sad  and 
mysterious  affair.  So  that  ever  after  Robert  Hill  was  spared 
the  trouble  of  explaining  anything  that  he  might  know  of 
the  distressing  circumstances. 

Robert  Hill  tried  to  comfort  his  parents  as  best  he 
could.    He  spoke  freely  of  finding  their  daughter,  his  sister. 


AN  EXPLANATION  255 

"We  should  be  thankful,  mother,  we  know  where  she 
is.  All  doubt  has  now  ceased.  We  believed  her  dead,  and 
so  she  was  in  thought,  now  we  know  in  fact,  so  why 
mourn  ? ' ' 

At  the  mill  he  attended  his  work,  but  the  geniality  of  his 
disposition,  so  well  known,  seemed  to  have  left  him.  He 
had  little  to  say  to  any  of  them,  only  such  as  was  necessary 
in  their  daily  intercourse.  From  the  mill  to  his  home,  and 
from  his  home  to  the  mill,  was  his  daily  route.  He  seldom 
spoke  to  any  one  he  met  on  the  way.  He  invariably  walked 
with  his  head  down,  as  a  man  would  who  had  something 
serious  on  his  mind.  He  failed  in  his  attendance  at  church 
and  was  admonished  by  the  pastor,  to  whom  he  gave  a 
respectful  but  unsatisfactory  reason  for  his  absence.  At 
length  he  shunned  the  Howard  family,  to  the  great  discom- 
fiture of  Rachel  Howard,  who  inquired  of  her  brother. 

"What's  to  do  with  Mr.  Hill;  he  never  comes  around 
now  ? ' ' 

"I  don't  know,"  was  her  brother's  answer,  "unless  he 
wishes  to  give  his  whole  time  and  attention  to  his  parents." 

"He  don't  even  go  to  church,"  she  said.  "I  haven't 
seen  him  for  weeks." 

"I  can't  understand,"  said  Matt,  "but  I  am  going  over 
this  evening  to  see  him." 

On  Matthew  Howard's  arrival  at  the  home  of  his 
friend's  parents,  after  the  customary  salutation,  he  inquired 
for  Bob.  "He's  in  the  workshop,"  replied  his  mother. 
Howard  went  to  the  little  carpenter's  shop  where  Hill  senior 
had  arranged  to  do  jobs  at  home  before  his  illness.  Howard 
entered  unheard  or  unannounced.  He  noticed  Hill  adjust- 
ing a  noose  on  a  piece  of  sash  cord, 

"What  are  you  doing,  Bob?"  was  his  inquiry. 


256  AN  EXPLANATION 

"Nothing;  just  passing  the  time."  He  placed  the  piece 
of  sash  cord  he  had  been  toying  with  hastily  in  a  drawer. 

"What  have  we  done,  Bob,  to  you  that  you've  shaken 
us  entirely?  Rachel  thinks  I  am  somewhat  responsible  for 
you're  not  coming  around." 

"Is  that  so?"  he  said,  smiling.  "I  must  go  then  and 
disabuse  her  mind.  The  facts  are,  Matt,  I  don't  go  any' 
where  except  to  my  work  and  back.  I  suppose  it  will  wear 
off  in  time,  but  for  the  present  I  like  to  stay  at  home." 

"Now,  Bob,  the  facts  are  you're  becoming  melancholy 
and  you  know  that's  a  very  dangerous  malady.  A  couple 
of  weeks  after  we  brought  Martha  home  it  was  excusable, 
but  you  have  no  justification  in  shaking  your  old  friends. 
I  feel  that  I  am  nearly  as  big  a  sufferer  as  you,  but  I  have 
to  stand  it." 

"Yes,  Matt,  you  have  done  your  full  duty  as  well 
as  any  friend  could  be  expected  to  do,  but  I  have  mine  to 
do  yet."  His  teeth  clenched  and  there  was  a  look  on  his 
countenance  that  alarmed  his  friend. 

"Come,  come,  Bob,  be  reasonable.  We  cannot  bring 
back  the  past.    Let  us  renew  the  old  time  friendship." 

"Did  we  ever  cease  to  be  friends,  Matt?" 

"No,  but  come  around  to  the  store.  Rachel  would  like 
to  see  you,  and  so  would  all  the  rest  of  my  people." 

"I  will  drop  in  some  evening  and  square  myself  with 
them.  Matt,  but  I  am  in  no  mind  at  present  to  gossip." 

Hill  kept  his  word  and  spent  an  evening  in  the  Howard 
store.  All  present  welcomed  him.  Rachel  was  particularly 
pleased  to  see  him  enter  the  now  very  large  establishment. 

"Robert,"  she  said,  looking  into  his  face.  "We  were 
wondering  what  had  become  of  you,  I  have  been  over  to 
your  house  a  number  of  times,  but  never  could  see  you.  I 
hope  none  of  us  have  done  anything  to  offend  you?" 


AN  EXPLANATION  257 

"No,  Rachel,  the  old  friendship  exists  as  strong  as  ever, 
but  I  have  stayed  around  the  house  to  comfort  the  old  people, 
and  when  I  have  been  out  I  have  preferred  to  be  alone. 
Don't  blame  me,  I  can't  help  it." 

There  was  another  considerable  lapse  before  Hill  visited 
the  Howards  again. 

Rachel  determined  to  visit  the  Hills  whenever  her  time 
as  cashier  in  her  brother's  extensive  establishmnet  would 
permit.  She  had  also  assumed  the  function  of  taking  care 
of  Martha's  grave,  which  was  in  close  proximity  of  that  of 
her  father  and  mother.  On  the  occasion  of  one  of  her 
visits  she  saw  Robert  Hill  sitting  on  an  adjacent  tomb,  cry- 
ing. She  went  and  sat  by  his  side  and  tried  to  comfort  him. 
She  felt  she  had  a  right  to.  She  hoped  to  fill  Martha's  place, 
to  be  more  than  sister  to  him.  He  looked  longingly  to  her 
when  she  was  seated  by  his  side. 

"It  is  so  good  of  you,  Rachel,  to  take  care  of  Martha's 
grave." 

"You  know,  Robert,  she  was  my  nearest  and  dearest 
friend.  We  were  children  together,  and  girls  together, 
shared  one  another's  confidence  and  built  our  hopes  in  the 
future,  but  God  willed  it  otherwise."    She  wiped  her  eyes. 

At  her  allusion  to  God's  will,  Robert  Hill's  mind  re- 
verted to  Ike  Rosenthal  and  Madam  Blomgarten. 

"I  must  be  going,"  he  said,  rising  and  abruptly  walk- 
ing away. 

Rachel  looked  after  him  in  alarm.  Her  womanly  feel- 
ing was  discomforted  by  his  abrupt  departure,  but  her  love 
for  him,  coupled  with  her  Christian  charity,  could  bear  him 
no  ill  will.  She  told  her  brother  on  her  return  home  of  his 
strange  conduct. 

"I  am  very  anxious  about  him,"  said  Matt,  "but  he's 
too  stubborn  to  take  any  advice." 


258  AN  EXPLANATION 

On  Matthew  Howard  going  to  his  bank  next  day  the 
president,  seeing  him  at  the  receiver's  window,  shouted: 

"Matt,  come  in;  I  want  to  talk  to  you!" 

When  Howard  entered  the  private  office,  the  bank  presi- 
dent told  him  to  close  the  door  and  take  a  seat. 

"What  I  wanted  to  talk  to  you  about  was  your  friend 
Mr.  Hill.  I  have  noticed  of  late  he  is  very  peculiar.  I  pass 
him  on  the  street  sometimes  and  he  hardly  notices  me.  I 
chided  him  on  one  occasion.  He  only  smiled  when  I  charged 
him  with  passing  me  without  even  returning  my  nod.  He 
excused  himself  by  saying  he  hadn't  seen  me.  Mr.  Robin- 
son also  has  been  talking  to  me  about  him,  not  complaining 
that  Bob  doesn't  attend  to  business,  but  he  tells  me  that 
sometimes  he  spends  hours  in  the  mill  putting  the  machinery 
in  order  and  fixing  things  up  when  he  should  be  at  home. 
He  has  also  added  some  valuable  improvements  to  the  plant. 
Robinson's  anxiety  is  that  he  may  break  down.  Of  course 
he  knows  Bob's  trouble,  and  made  a  proposition  to  him  the 
other  day  to  take  a  month's  vacation  and  draw  his  month's 
salary  in  advance.  Hill  thanked  him,  and  said  he  was  better 
at  home,  and  that  as  he  was  going  to  install  some  improve- 
ments in  the  machinery  he  had  no  time..  Robinson  told  him 
to  let  it  wait  until  he  came  back.  But  Hill  turned  the  propo- 
sition down,  the  salary  suggestion  cutting  no  figuse,  as 
Robert  has  a  snug  little  amount  here  to  his  credit. ' ' 

"I  don't  see  where  we  can  do  anything  for  him,"  said 
Howard,  "I  have  talked  to  him,  but  to  no  good.  What  I 
fear  is  that  he  has  a  dose  of  melancholy  that  he  may  not 
get  over." 

Hill  called  at  the  house  one  evening  and  he  seemed 
much  more  cheerful.  He  even  joked  with  Rachel,  to  her 
great  surprise.  Matt  Howard  came  to  where  his  sister  and 
Hill  were  talking. 


AN  EXPLANATION  259 

"Matt,  I  am  going  to  Chicago  on  Saturday  to  see  a 
sculptor  about  a  stone  to  put  on  our  burial  lot — or  yours, 
to  be  more  specific." 

''That'll  do,  Bob,  about  it  being  mine.  That  section  has 
already  been  deeded  to  your  father  and  mother.  I  have 
deposited  the  deed  in  the  bank,  to  their  credit,  so  neither 
you  nor  I  have  any  more  claim  to  it.  But  why  can't  you 
put  off  your  visit  to  some  day  during  the  week  when  I  could 
go  with  you?" 

"No,  I  must  go  Saturday  afternoon,  while  we  are  closed 
down. ' ' 

"You  needn't  trouble  yourself  about  whether  the  mill 
is  closed  down  Saturday  or  not.  If  you  go  some  week  day 
the  old  mill  will  be  there  when  you  come  back." 

"Well,  Matthew,  I  have  made  arrangements  to  go  on 
Saturday." 

"Then  if  that's  the  case  I  will  have  to  excuse  you." 

When  Howard  went  to  his  bank  the  following  day  the 
president  told  him: 

"Your  friend  Hill  was  here  yesterday  at  noon.  He 
peemed  to  me  to  be  more  sociable.  He  told  me  he  was  going 
to  Chicago  to  arrange  for  a  monument  —  I  suppose  to  put 
over  his  sister's  grave.  He  drew  a  thousand  dollars,  so  he 
must  be  going  to  do  something  handsome." 

Hill  went  to  Chicago  for  a  number  of  consecutive  Satur- 
day afternoons,  always  on  the  same  plea  of  seeing  to  the 
construction  and  lettering  on  the  projected  monument,  until 
the  men  in  the  mill  jokingly  said  to  him  one  day,  "Bob,  we 
begin  to  believe  you  must  have  a  girl  in  Chicago." 

Hill  shook  his  head  and  said,  ' '  No  fear. ' ' 


260  A  TRAGEDY 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 
A  TRAGEDY. 

Madam  Blomgarten 's  house  was  fully  illuminated  one 
Saturday  evening,  when  a  tall,  robust  man  climbed  the  mar- 
ble steps  leading  to  the  parlor  floor.  The  colored  door- 
keeper, hearing  the  footsteps  ascending,  admitted  him.  On 
reaching  the  parlor,  he  observed  a  number  of  young  people 
dancing  to  the  music  of  a  piano,  and  there  were  laughter 
and  mirth.  Small  groups  of  men  and  stylishly-dressed 
women  sat  at  tables  drinking.  Standing  at  the  parlor  door, 
he  seemed  either  reluctant  to  enter,  or  abashed  to  mingle 
in  company  to  which  he  seemed  a  total  stranger.  Madam 
Blomgarten,  from  her  point  of  vantage,  recognizing  his 
dilemma,  left  her  seat,  and  approaching  invited  him  in. 

"You  need  not  feel  strange,"  she  said,  "I  presume  you 
were  never  here  before?" 

"No,  ma'am." 

' '  Then  come  in  and  make  yourself  at  home.  Would  you 
like  me  to  introduce  you  to  one  of  my  boarders?" 

"I  have  no  objection." 

"Then  come  along."  Looking  around  the  fairly- 
crowded  parlor,  she  caught  the  eye  of  a  young  girl  not  to 
exceed  the  age  of  20  years,  beckoning  to  her,  who  came  trip- 
ping forward. 

"Lucretia,  conduct  this  gentleman  to  a  seat." 

Lucretia  smiled,  and  offered  her  hand  to  the  stranger 
as  a  token  of  good  fellowship.  She  then  conducted  him  to 
a  remote  end  of  the  parlor  and,  providing  a  chair  for  his 


A  TRAGEDY  261 

convenience,  with  his  back  to  those  present,  beckoned  him 
to  sit  down,  she  taking  a  seat  opposite  to  him.  Noticing 
either  his  shyness  or  awkwardness  in  such  company,  she 
ventured  an  opinion. 

"You  seem  to  be  a  stranger  in  these  parts?" 

"Yes,  Miss.  I  am  from  the  far  west,  and  never  was  in 
so  swell  a  ranch  as  this  before,"  looking  around. 

"This  is  one  of  the  best  houses  in  the  city  and  you  need 
have  no  anxiety.  Madam  Blomgarten  caters  only  to  the 
best  society." 

At  the  mention  of  the  name  the  man  seemed  interested. 

"Which  is  she?" 

"The  lady  that  introduced  us,  that  stout  woman." 

"Indeed!     She  seems  a  very  nice  person." 

"Yes,  she's  all  business." 

The  stranger  turned  and  noticed  a  waiter  at  his  side, 
standing  at  attention. 

"I  suppose  it  is  expected  of  the  gentlemen  who  come 
here  to  treat  you  girls?" 

"Yes,  you  innocent!"  smiling  on  him. 

"Well,  you  order  what  you  would  like." 

"They  have  nothing  here  but  bottled  goods — beer  and 
champagne  are  the  ones  in  general  use.  Do  you  think  we 
could  afford  a  bottle  of  fizz?"  looking  archly  at  him. 

"Nothing  is  too  good  for  you.  Miss,  while  you  are  with 
me.    You  order  it." 

"Tom,  bring  us  a  bottle  of  white  seal,"  addressing  the 
waiter. 

The  wine  was  brought  and  opened,  the  stranger  placing 
his  hand  in  his  breast  pocket  and  extracting  a  roll  of  bills 
of  such  proportions  as  to  at  once  to  place  him  high  in  the 
estimation  of  his  young  lady  friend. 


262  A  TRAGEDY 

Tendering  a  twenty-dollar  bill  as  payment  for  the  wine, 
the  waiter  brought  his  change.  The  gentleman  took  all  from 
the  extended  tray  on  which  the  money  was,  except  fifty 
cents,  at  the  same  time  raising  the  back  of  his  hand  to  the 
waiter,  signifying  that  what  remained  on  the  tray  was  for 
him,  another  act  which  elevated  him  not  only  in  the  estima- 
tion of  Lucretia,  but  also  of  the  waiter,  who  thanked  him. 
Both  surmised  he  was  "the  goods"  and  well  worth  warming 
up  to. 

The  wine  glasses  having  been  filled,  she  raised  hers, 
and,  reaching  across  the  table,  touched  hers  to  his,  smiling. 

"So  you  tell  me  you're  from  the  far  west?"  she  in- 
quired. 

"Yes,  Nevada." 

"What  do  you  do  out  there?" 

"I  am  a  miner." 

"You  own  a  gold  mine,  I  suppose?"  smiling. 

"Well,  there  is  some  gold,  and  some  silver." 

"Do  you  come  often  to  Chicago?" 

"No,  this  is  my  first  visit.    You  have  some  city  here." 

"Yes,"  laughing,  "you  had  better  be  careful  or  you'll 
get  lost."    She  filled  the  empty  glasses  and  they  both  drank. 

"I  suppose  you're  a  family  man?"  looking  at  him, 
smiling. 

"No,  I  haven't  the  good  fortune." 

"Then  you  have  a  girl  there?" 

"Women  are  very  scarce  in  our  parts." 

"How  would  you  like  to  take  me  with  you  when  you 
go  back?"  smiling. 

"I  would  have  to  consider  a  project  of  that  magnitude," 
laughing.  "I  know  how  to  manage  a  mine,  but  how  to 
handle  a  woman  is  a  proposition  in  which  I  have  had  little 
experience." 


A  TRAGEDY  263 

"You  would  find  me  very  tractable  and  accommodating. 
I'm  sure  I  would  please  you." 

''Of  that  I  have  no  doubt,  but  we'll  have  to  get  better 
acquainted." 

Just  then  the  waiter  came  and  whispered  into  her  ear 
that  she  was  wanted  at  the  front. 

"Who  is  it?"  The  waiter  gave  her  a  name.  "You  tell 
him  I  am  engaged,  and  that  there  is  no  use  of  him  waiting 
for  me." 

Turning  to  her  friend  of  recent  acquaintance,  she  in- 
quired, "You're  going  to  stay  all  night?" 

"Probably  so;  is  this  a  safe  place?" 

"You're  just  as  safe  here  as  you  would  be  in  your  bank, 
or  in  your  church.  Madam  Blomgarten's  place  is  well  known 
for  its  security  and  respectability.  Many  of  the  best  people 
in  Chicago  come  here." 

"Indeed!  Well  let  us  finish  this  bottle,  and  have  an- 
other." 

"I'll  go  you,"  laughing. 

On  the  second  bottle  being  brought  and  drunk,  Miss 
Lucretia  became  somewhat  more  kittenish,  and  moved  her 
seat  beside  that  of  the  stranger. 

"Remember,"  says  she,  "I  am  very  jealous,  and  during 
your  stay  in  Chicago,  whether  you  take  me  back  to  Nevada 
or  not,  I  will  not  want  you  to  be  fooling  with  any  other 
girl." 

The  man  laughed.  "Lucretia  —  I  believe  that's  your 
name — you  need  have  no  fear.  I  begin  to  believe  you're 
all  right." 

"I  guess  you'll  find  me  so,"  she  said,  confidently,  "but 
I'm  beginning  to  get  stewed." 

The  second  bottle  being  emptied,  the  man  asked,  "Will 
I  order  some  more  wine  ? ' ' 


264  A  TRAGEDY 

"No,  we'll  have  a  bottle  of  beer,  and  then  we'll  retire." 
Before  the  beer  was  half  consumed,  Miss  Lucretia  showed 
symptoms  of  inebriation.  So  rising  from  her  se^t,  the 
Nevadian  followed  her.  As  they  passed  Madam  Blomgarten, 
that  lady  smiled  patronizingly  on  the  stranger,  of  whom  she 
had  heard  good  reports  from  the  waiter.  As  Lucretia  toiled 
up  the  first  flight  of  stairs,  she  remarked  on  reaching  the 
landing,  "We  have  to  go  up  another  flight.  I  am  afraid 
you'll  have  to  carry  me,"  she  said,  jokingly. 

"Who  occupies  those  rooms?"  he  said,  casually. 

"Some  of  the  girls,  and  that's  the  madam's  room," 
pointing  to  one  just  at  the  head  of  the  stairs. 

"I  suppose  she  has  a  swell  room,"  he  remarked. 

"No  better  than  I  have,"  opening  the  door,  while  she 
recovered  her  breath. 

The  man  from  Nevada  looked  in,  observing  an  old- 
fashioned  four-post  bed,  a  table,  chairs,  lounge,  and  what 
not.  This  is  not  very  swell,"  he  remarked,  viewing  the  room 
with  a  critical  eye,  and  taking  in  the  position  of  the  win- 
dows, which  he  noticed  faced  the  adjoining  building.  On 
reaching  Lucretia 's  room,  she  sat  down  on  the  lounge, 
panting.     "You  made  me  drink  too  much  wine,"  she  said, 

"Not  I,"  he  replied,  smiling  at  her  as  he  sat  down  be- 
side her,  and  took  her  in  his  arms. 

"You  mustn't  be  too  gay,"  she  said,  laughing  up  into 
his  face,  ' '  and  you  must  treat  me  right. ' '  This  allusion  was 
to  the  financial  question,  which  was  agreeably  settled. 

Next  morning,  when  Lucretia  awoke,  she  found  her 
friend  of  the  night  before  had  already  departed. 

The  following  Saturday  evening,  about  9  o'clock,  the 
gentleman  from  Nevada  peered  into  the  parlor,  where  the 
guests  were  not  too  numerous.  At  that  hour  Lucretia,  notic- 
ing his  entrance,  walked  ahead  of  him  to  the  rear  of  the 


A  TRAGEDY  265 

parlor,  and  stood  at  the  table  until  he  came  and  took  a  seat. 
She  gave  him  one  of  her  most  bewitching  smiles. 

' '  I  have  a  crow  to  pick  with  you ! '  *  she  said.  ' '  Why 
did  you  give  me  the  slip  Sunday  morning  last,  without  bid- 
ding me  good  morning?  You  weren't  vexed  at  me,  were 
you?" 

"No,  girl,  but  why  should  I  disturb  you?  You  were 
sleeping  the  sleep  of  the  innocent  when  I  left." 

"Cut  that  out  now!    I  know  you  are  only  joshing  me." 
"You  know,  Lucretia — I  believe  that's  your  name — " 
"Or  cognomen,"  she  said,  laughing. 
"In  our  part  of  the  country  we  are  early  risers.     We 
go  to  bed  when  the  sun  sets,  and  get  up  when  it  rises.     I 
understand  you  in  Chicago  here  go  to  bed  when  the  sun 
rises,  and  get  up  by  the  light  of  the  moon." 

' '  That 's  pretty  clever  of  you,  but  I  'm  dry.  I  haven 't 
had  a  drink  tonight." 

"Bring  us  a  bottle,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  waiter  who 
stood  at  his  elbow. 

"When  are  you  going  to  take  me  to  Nevada?"  she 
inquired. 

"Why,  what  in  the  name  of  goodness  would  I  do  with 
you  in  Nevada?  Everybody  has  to  work  in  my  section,  and 
if  I  had  you  there  I  would  have  to  put  you  down  in  one  of 
my  mines  with  a  pair  of  overalls  on,"  laughing. 

"Not  on  your  life,  Mr.  Sharp.  You  would  find  me  too 
useful  to  you  there  to  put  me  down  in  a  mine,  and  if  you 
didn't  want  me  I  might  find  some  rich  old  fogy  that  would 
be  glad  to  have  me." 

"Possibly  so,  but  you  see  where  I  am  there  are  no  rich 
old  fogies  or  well-to-do  young  fools  but  myself." 

The  waiter  arrived  with  the  bottle,  the  cork  flying  up 
to  the  ceiling.    He  filled  the  glasses. 


266  A  TRAGEDY 

"That's  the  stuff  to  put  life  into  you,"  she  said,  as  she 
emptied  her  glass  and  then  smacked  her  lips. 

The  man  from  Nevada  pulled  out  his  roll  of  bills  and 
gave  one  to  the  waiter. 

Lucretia  looked  on  his  pile  with  unfeigned  admiration. 

"Where  do  you  get  it?"  she  asked. 

"You  will  see,  if  I  take  you  out  to  Nevada." 

"Then  see  that  you  do." 

An  hour  was  passed  in  by-talk  and  the  consumption  of 
the  second  bottle  of  champagne,  when  Lucretia  rose 
abruptly.    You  will  have  to  excuse  me,"  she  said. 

"No,  sit  down." 

"I  will  be  back  in  a  few  minutes,"  she  said,  smiling 
and  chucking  him  under  the  chin  as  she  passed  him. 

The  man  from  Nevada  watched  her  as  she  went  toward 
the  front  of  the  parlor,  where  he  saw  her  in  conversation 
with  an  extravagantly  dressed  fellow.  He  noticed  some  irri- 
tation between  them,  after  which  Lucretia  left  the  fellow 
abruptly,  returned  and  took  her  seat  by  her  Nevada  friend. 

"You  didn't  think  I  was  going  to  leave  you,  did  you?" 

"I  didn't  know." 

"No  danger.  I'm  going  to  stick  to  you  as  close  as  a 
porous  plaster  would  stick  on  your  broad  back.  Fill  my 
glass. ' ' 

"I'm  afraid  you're  going  to  get  full  again,"  he  said. 

"What's  the  odds,  as  long  as  we're  happy?" 

When  the  second  bottle  of  champagne  was  drunk,  a 
bottle  of  beer  was  ordered.  After  it  was  about  consumed, 
she  yawned. 

"My,  but  I'm  tired!    Let  us  retire." 

"I  see  the  madam  can  sit  it  out,"  he  whispered  to  her 
as  they  passed  the  proprietress,  who  was  giving  strict  at- 
tention to  business. 


A  TRAGEDY  267 

* '  Easy  for  her.  She  stays  in  bed  nearly  all  day.  DinaJi 
— that's  the  colored  woman — brings  her  a  cup  of  coffee  to 
her  bedside  every  morning  about  7  o'clock,  and  if  she's 
awake  she  drinks  it,  and  then  turns  over  her  two  hundred 
and  fifty  pounds  of  fat,  and  goes  to  sleep  again." 

When  Lucretia  had  disrobed,  she  turned  to  her  partner. 
*'Now  don't  you  run  away,  and  leave  me  in  the  morning." 

"Why,  do  you  think  I  can  loll  around  in  the  bed  all 
day  like  your  mistress?" 

"Well,  you  wake  me  up  then." 

"No,  I  won't  promise." 

"Then  you're  mean." 

"When  Lucretia  awoke  about  ten  in  the  morning,  she 
found  herself  alone,  but  consoled  herself  with  the  fairly 
sized  bill  she  had.  Turning  over,  she  slept  until  the  dinner 
bell  aroused  her  from  her  slumbers. 

The  following  Saturday  night  was  a  gala  one  in  the  house 
of  Blomgarten.  The  madam  was  all  smiles  as  the  man  from 
Nevada  passed  her.  Lucretia  was  in  earnest  conversation 
with  a  young  fop  when  he  went  toward  the  rear  end  of  the 
room,  where  he  was  seated  on  two  former  visits.  Lucretia 
forsook  the  young  gentleman  she  had  been  talking  to,  and 
followed  her  mining  friend  from  the  west.  When  she 
reached  him  she  said: 

"I  had  about  made  up  my  mind  never  to  speak  to  you 
again. ' ' 

"Why  that,  Lucretia?" 

"I  told  you  before  you  left  on  Sunday  morning  to  be 
sure  and  wake  me,  didn't  I?" 

"Yes,  but  it  would  be  cruel  to  disturb  you,  you  look 
so  innocent  when  you're  asleep,"  laughing. 

"There,  you're  joshing  me  again." 

"No,  I'm  sincere.    Let  us  drink,"     He  nodded  to  the 


268  A  TRAGEDY 

waiter,  who,  without  inquiring  his  wants,  brought  in  a  bottle 
of  champagne.  The  waiter,  having  heard  the  rumor  that 
Lucretia  had  a  wealthy  miner  on  her  staff,  a  man  of  untold 
wealth,  and  judging  from  the  liberal  tips  he  had  received, 
he  was  prepared  to  substantiate  the  rumor,  served  the  re- 
freshments that  he  knew  were  to  the  taste  of  Miss  Lucretia 
and  the  profit  of  his  illustrious  employer. 

"Well,  I  forgive  you  this  time,"  said  the  young  lady, 
"but  don"t  let  it  happen  again." 

"You  seem  very  busy  here  this  evening,"  said  the 
Nevada  man,  looking  around  at  the  crowded  parlors. 

"Yes,"  said  the  girl,  "but  many  of  the  young  fops 
that  are  here  tonight  will  be  disappointed,  as  every  girl  in 
the  house  is  engaged.  Many  of  them  are  up  in  their  rooms 
already  and  won't  be  down  again  tonight.  You  see  the  old 
swells  hardly  ever  come  into  the  parlor.  They  telephone 
over  to  their  lady  friends  when  they  are  coming,  and,  know- 
ing their  rooms,  go  right  upstairs.  Those  young  fools," 
whispering  to  him,  "will  buy  drinks  for  those  still  here, 
and  be  sent  home  or  to  another  house  as  soon  as  they  find 
they've  been  hoaxed.  Look  at  the  madam  jollying  them 
two  swells  now,"  remarked  Lucretia.  "She's  telling  them 
to  wait  around.     They're  good  spenders." 

"Then  you're  probably  left  on  the  shelf  tonight,"  said 
the  Nevada  man,  laughing. 

"Not  on  your  tin-type.  It'll  be  a  cold  day  when  Lucre- 
tia gets  left.  Did  you  notice  that  young  swell  I  was  talking 
to  when  you  came  in?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  I  had  to  turn  that  fellow  down  when  I  saw  j'ou 
coming.  I  told  himi  you  were  my  'steady,'  so  he  would  have 
to  excuse  me;  besides,  Mr.  Sharp,  I  could  have  pick  and 
choice  here." 


A  TRAGEDY  269 

"I  feel  glad  you  are  in  such  demand.  I  don't  see  why 
you  want  to  go  to  Nevada,  when  you're  so  popular  here." 

"Rats!  Do  you  think  any  of  us  women  care  for  those 
fellows?     It's  their  dough  we're  after." 

"I  suppose  that's  the  value  you  put  on  me  too?" 
smiling. 

"You're  somewhat  different.  I  like  your  size,  your 
vigor  and  your  generous  disposition.  I  would  give  up  the 
whole  bunch  for  a  man  like  you." 

"I  see.  I'll  have  to  buy  another  bottle,"  said  the  man, 
laughing. 

"I  don't  care  whether  you  do  or  not,"  pouting. 

"Bring  us  another  bottle,"  he  said  to  the  waiter. 

The  crowd  in  the  parlor  began  to  thin  out,  the  women 
leaving  gradually,  until  but  two  or  three  were  left.  Ere  the 
second  bottle  of  champagne  was  consumed,  Lucretia  and  the 
madam  were  the  only  two  of  their  sex  remaining. 

"Let  us  retire,"  said  Lucretia.  "You  see  the  madam 
is  nearly  piped  in  the  absence  of  consumers.  She's  taken 
more  than  she's  used  to." 

At  this  moment  the  madam  arose,  her  gait  being  un- 
steady. 

"Come,"  said  Lucretia,  "let  us  go." 

"No,  I  am  going  to  have  another  bottle  of  champagne." 

"I  don't  think  I  can  drink  any  more,"  protested  Lu- 
cretia, "I'm  as  full  as  a  tick." 

"Bring  a  bottle,"  was  his  peremptory  order  to  the 
waiter,  who  hastened  to  obey  with  alacrity. 

The  Nevada  man's  vigorous  constitution  seemed  to  en- 
able him  to  withstand  the  drink.  Not  so  Lucretia,  whose 
vacant  gaze  and  limp  form  on  her  chair  from  which  she  was 
in  danger  of  falling  showed  she  was  in  an  advanced  state 
of  intoxication. 


270  A  TRAGEDY 

"I'm  going  to  bed,"  she  exclaimed,  in  a  maudlin  voice. 
"You  can  stay." 

It  was  about  3:30  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  a 
stealthy  step  might  be  heard  descending  from  the  third 
floor.  The  party  halted  and  listened.  All  was  silent  as 
the  grave,  except  for  the  snoring  of  some  of  the  inmates 
fast  asleep  in  the  adjoining  rooms.  After  a  few  seconds, 
guided  by  the  dim  light  from  a  bracket  lamp  that  projected 
from  the  wall,  the  figure  moved  toward  the  room  where 
Madam  Blomgarten  slept.  He  laid  his  hand  on  the  knob 
of  the  door,  turned  it,  the  door  opened,  it  creaked  on  its 
hinges.  He  paused  to  listen.  All  being  quiet,  he  entered 
the  room  and  approached  the  bed  on  which  Madam  Blom- 
garten lay.  She  was  prone  on  her  back.  The  man,  whoever 
he  was,  paused  for  a  moment.  Just  as  a  tiger  would  act 
before  springing  on  his  prey,  he  suddenly  wound  his  giant 
hands  around  the  madam's  neck.  She  opened  her  eyes  with 
a  start,  and  attempted  to  scream.  He  tightened  his  grip  so 
that  but  a  gurgle  could  be  heard.  She  struggled  in  the  bed. 
He  placed  his  knee  on  her  abdomen.  He  saw  her  tongue  pro- 
trude. He  eased  his  pressure  on  her  throat  for  a  moment. 
She  looked  appealingly  into  his  face. 

"You  remember  Martha  Hill!"  he  hissed  between  his 
teeth.  "You  worse  than  horlot!  If  you  don't,  then  you 
remember  Clementina  Montague!     Damn  you!" 

She  again  attempted  to  scream.  He  tightened  his  grip 
on  her  throat.  "Hell  awaits  you!"  he  hissed  into  her  ear. 
"Go  you,  and  be  eternally  damned!"  He  increased  the 
pressure  on  her  throat  until  she  ceased  to  struggle,  her  eyes 
staring  wildly,  her  tongue  protruding  through  her  swollen 
lips.  He  paused  for  a  tim!,e,  but  never  relinquished  his  hold 
on  her  throat.  At  last,  seemingly  satisfied  she  was  dead,  he 
took  a  rope  from  his  pocket  on  which  there  was  a  noose 


A  TRAGEDY  271 

and,  placing  it  around  her  throat,  pulled  it  with  all  his 
strength,  until  it  began  to  eat  into  the  flesh.  Then,  standing 
on  the  bed,  he  fastened  it  to  the  top  of  the  post.  He  tried 
to  lift  the  body  to  a  standing  position.  In  this  he  failed. 
So  he  had  to  content  himself  by  rolling  the  body  from  the 
bed  until  the  feet  reached  the  floor  in  a  half  recumbent 
position.  Leaving  the  room,  he  walked  down  the  flight  of 
stairs  till  he  reached  the  door  where  the  night  watch,  a 
colored  man,  was  sleeping  in  his  chair.  He  touched  the  man 
on  the  shoulder,  who,  rising  and  wiping  his  eyes,  opened  the 
door.  The  man  then  descended  the  marble  steps,  and  hastily 
walked  away. 

That  morning  about  7 :30  o  'clock,  according  to  custom, 
Dinah  opened  the  madam's  door,  tray  in  hand.  The  sight 
she  saw  made  the  blood  stand  still  in  her  veins. 

"Murder!     Murder!"  she  screamed,  as  the  tray  and 
all  its  contents  fell  to  the  floor  with  a  crash. 
* '  Murder !    Murder ! ' ' 

The  roomers  jumped  from  their  beds  in  alarm.  Men 
could  be  seen  running  down  the  stairs,  some  with  their  shoes 
in  their  hands,  others  with  little  but  their  pants  on.  Women 
in  adjoining  rooms,  pale  with  fright,  gazed  into  the  room  and 
shrieked  with  terror.  Some  of  the  men  present  made  for 
the  back  entrance,  dressing  themselves  as  they  ran.  An 
elderly  gray-whiskered  man,  rushing  with  his  coat  and  vest 
on  his  arm,  and  but  one  shoe  on,  met  the  terrified  colored 
man  in  the  passage.  "What's  up!"  he  shouted.  "I  don't 
know,"  said  the  fleeing  man,  as  he  dashed  down  the  marble 
steps,  and  found  an  adjacent  passage  in  which  he  lingered 
to  put  on  his  clothes.  Mugsy,  who  was  soon  on  the  scene, 
was  accosted  by  a  very  stout  man,  who  had  not  even  time 
to  put  his  undershirt  on. 


272  A  TRAGEDY 

"Miigsy!"  he  exelaim,ed,  "for  God's  sake  get  me  out 
of  here,  and  there's  a  hundred  for  you." 

"What's  up?"  asked  one  of  a  little  group  that  had 
already  congregated  around  the  door.  "Is  the  place  on 
fire?" 

"Yes!"  exclaimed  a  retreating  figure. 

"Fire!  Fire!"  shouted  the  crowd.  Policemen  came 
running  from  all  directions,  A  sergeant,  followed  by  some 
of  his  men,  rushed  up  the  steps,  and  into  the  house. 

"Up  stairs!"  shouted  the  colored  man.  Just  then  the 
gongs  of  the  fire  apparatus  could  be  heard,  and  the  clatter 
of  horses'  hoofs.  The  fire  patrol  was  first  on  the  scene. 
The  men  jumped  off,  some  with  tarpaulins  on  their  shoul- 
ders, others  with  fire  extinguishers. 

The  sergeant  of  police,  having  reached  the  room  in 
which  the  body  hung,  seeing  what  the  trouble  was,  shouted 
orders.  "See  to  the  doors  back  and  front,  let  no  one  in  or 
out!"    He  nodded  to  the  fireman  in  charge. 

"Captain,"  he  said,  "this  is  our  job.  You  can  call 
your  men  off." 

Mugsy  and  the  colored  man,  the  only  two  men  present, 
were  immediately  placed  under  arrest.  The  others  had 
escaped,  many  leaving  part  of  their  raiment  behind  them. 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE  273 


CHAPTER  XXXni. 
THE  THIRD  DEGREE. 

On  the  arrival  of  a  superior  officer  from  the  police 
department,  he  gave  orders  to  take  all  inmates  to  head- 
quarters, and  leave  men  in  charge  of  the  place  to  await 
further  instructions. 

The  girls  were  ordered  to  dress  and  get  ready  to  leave. 
Some  of  them  kicked  vigorously,  protesting  that  they  were 
too  sick ;  others  went  back  to  bed  and  covered  themselves 
up  in  hopes  of  escaping  observation.  Policemen  searched 
the  house  from  basement  to  garret.  Where  they  found  a 
damsel  in  bed  they  rudely  dragged  the  clothes  off  and  told 
her  to  get  up  and  dress.  Many  protested,  nagging  the  offi- 
cers, who  paid  no  attention,  but  said: 

*'If  you  don't  put  your  clothes  on  we  will  take  you  as 
you  are." 

The  coroner  had  arrived,  who  took  a  perfunctory  view 
of  the  remains,  and  then  told  the  officers  in  charge  that  one 
of  his  deputies  would  hold  an  inquest  in  the  afternoon. 

A  special  policeman,  one  of  the  ruling  race  who  had 
been  long  in  the  service,  was  placed  in  charge  of  the  room. 

Great  crowds  had  gathered  outside  the  house,  blocking 
the  streets  to  await  the  pull  which  they  surmised  was  going 
to  take  place.  The  patrol  wagons  had  trouble  to  get  in 
front  of  the  house,  the  crowd  was  so  dense.  At  length  when 
the  wagons  got  in  position,  and  the  policemen  took  their 
place  on  either  side  of  the  steps,  after  driving  the  onlookers 
back.    Mugsy  was  seen  coming  down  the  steps,  followed  by 


274  THE  THIRD  DEGREE 

the  doorkeeper,  and  then  Dinah.  Those  created  little  inter- 
est, until  the  women  of  the  underworld  began  to  show.  Many 
of  those  among  the  onlookers  who  knew  them  called  their 
names  as  they  appeared,  and  addressed  them  jokingly. 
Others  jeered  at  them  and  laughed,  as  the  police  officers 
hurried  these  along  who  Avere  tardy  or  who  wanted  to  stop 
on  the  steps  so  as  to  see  if  there  were  any  familiar  faces  in 
the  crowd.  The  officers  had  little  patience  with  those,  and, 
giving  them  a  push,  cried: 

"Come,  move  on  there,  step  lively!" 
"When  the  lady  so  accosted  would  turn  to  express  her 
indignation,  the  crowd  would  set  up  a  roar,  and  some  of 
them  would  say: 

"Reach  him  one,  Seraphina — or  Julia!" 
"Give  him  hell!"  another  would  shout,  amid  roars  of 
laughter,  as  the  obstinate  one  was  pushed  into  the  waiting 
wagon. 

"When  all  were  seated  in  the  police  patrol  wagons,  offi- 
cers stood  on  the  steps  of  each,  of  the  vehicles,  and  when 
orders  were  given  to  go  ahead  the  crowd  set  up  a  yell. 
Several  of  the  girls,  having  recovered  from  their  discomfit- 
ure, waved  their  hands  and  smiled  at  their  acquaintances, 
or  as  if  in  derision  of  those  who  were  gibing  them. 

After  quietness  was  restored  on  the  street,  and  in  the 
house,  the  police  officer  of  long  service  on  the  force  went 
into  the  room  where  Sadie  was  strung  up,  and,  with  more 
feeling  than  judgment,  seeing  the  very  uncomfortable  posi- 
tion the  corpse  was  placed  in,  removed  the  rope  from  the 
top  of  the  bed  post,  and  let  the  body  fall  flat  on  the  floor. 
He  thought  for  a  moment  of  lifting  her  on  the  bed,  but  that 
was  too  heavy  an  undertaking.  So  he  let  her  lie  where  she 
fell.     The  sergeant  on  his  rounds,  in  visiting  the  room,  saw 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE  275 

■what  his  subordinate  had  done,  and  exclaimed,  "Who  in 

h has  interfered  with  the  corpse  ! ' ' 

"Sure,  I  have,"  said  the  veteran." 
"Well,  I'll  be  damned!    What  made  you  do  that?" 
"What  harm?     I  didn't  like  to  see  the  poor  woman 
lying  so  uncomfortable,  and  all  I  did  was  just  to  lay  her 
down.    What  harm  can  be  in  that?" 

'You'll  find  out  when  the  lieutenant  or  the  coroner 
comes." 

"Well,  I'll  put  her  back  then." 
"No.  Let  her  lie  now!"  as  he  took  his  leave. 
The  deputy  coroner  arrived  early  in  the  afternoon  with 
the  regular  profesional  jurors  he  always  had  on  his  staff. 
They  Adewed  the  remains,  and  came  to  the  conclusion  she 
was  dead,  and,  without  further  investigation,  in  compliance 
with  a  request  from  the  police  department,  the  coroner  swore 
his  men  in  to  uphold  the  constitution,  etc.,  etc.,  and  ad- 
journed for  two  weeks ;  giving  permission  to  any  one  who 
might  want  to  go  to  the  trouble  to  inter  the  remains,  after 
which  he  and  his  faithful  six  adjourned  to  a  neighboring 
saloon  to  get  fresh  ones. 

At  police  headquarters  an  investigation  was  proceeding 
to  ascertain  what  the  inmates  of  the  house  knew  of  the  affair. 
Dinah,  the  colored  maid,  was  the  first  witness  called. 
She  stated  that  on  going  to  the  room  about  7 :30  in  the 
morning  with  a  cup  of  coffee  for  the  missus  she  saw  her 
lying  close  to  the  bed  fastened  to  a  rope  hanging  from  the 
bed  post. 

"What  did  you  do  then?"  inquired  the  interviewer. 
"I  screamed  murder!     I  was  terribly  frightened." 
"You  are  the  madam's  maid,  I  understand?" 
"Yes,  sir,  and  have  charge  of  the  wine  locker." 


276  THE  THIRD  DEGREE 

"Do  you  know  whether  the  windows  looking  into  the 
passage  from  your  mistress'  room  are  fastened  at  night?" 

"No,  sir." 

"Do  any  of  the  men  or  women  around  the  place  have 
occasion  to  visit  your  mistress'  room?" 

"No,  sir.  I  makes  the  missus'  bed  and  tidies  up  her 
room  for  her,  but  some  of  the  girls,  when  they  want  change 
early  in  the  morning,  may  have  to  go  in  to  see  her  if  she's 
in  bed." 

"Is  she  in  the  habit  of  locking  her  room  at  night?" 

"No,  as  I  go  to  her  room  nearly  every  morning." 

"I  suppose  you  knew  some  of  the  men  who  were  in  the 
house  that  night?" 

"Very  few,  sir,  as  I  am  supposed  to  know  nobody." 

"Well,  you  jog  your  memory,  because  we  Avill  have  to 
know  who  was  in  the  house  that  evening,  and  the  following 
morning." 

Dinah  was  allowed  to  retire. 

"Call  Mugsy  in." 

Mugsy,  on  appearing,  was  addressed  in  familiar  tones. 

"Well,  Mugsy,  what  do  you  know  about  this  affair?" 

"I  don't  know  anything.  I  went  to  bed  about  2  A.  M., 
as  there  were  few  in  the  parlors,  and  slept  until  7,  when  I 
heard  the  colored  woman  scream.  I  jumped  up  and  ran 
toward  the  room  where  I  found  the  missus  just  as  the  officers 
saw  her." 

"Have  you  any  suspicion  of  any  one?" 

"No,  sir." 

"Do  you  know  many  personally  who  occupied  the  house 
that  night?" 

"Yes,  I  know  some." 

"Have  you  any  reason  to  believe  that  any  of  those 
present  had  any  ill  feeling  against  the  madam?" 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE  277 

"No,  sir.  Nearly  all  those  who  were  there  that  night 
were  there  by  appointment." 

"You  knew  many  of  them,  I  presume?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"We  will  want  you  to  give  us  their  names." 

"I  wouldn't  like  to  do  that." 

"We  don't  care  as  to  your  likes  or  dislikes.  We'll 
expect  you  to  give  us  such  information  as  will  help  us  to 
unravel  the  case.  Our  conjecture  is  that  none  but  a  man 
committed  this  crime,  and  whoever  he  was  must  have  known 
the  location  and  furniture  in  her  room,  as  the  rope  with 
which  she  was  strangled  was  attached  to  the  post  of  a  bed, 
and  preparations  for  such  action  had  to  be  made  in  ad- 
vance." 

Mugsy  began  to  feel  uneasy,  as  his  inquisitor  looked 
steadily  at  him,  but  his  courage  never  failed  him. 

"Before  I  give  any  names  I  will  have  to  see  my  friend, 
and  probably  consult  a  lawyer." 

"Just  as  you  wish,  but  I  will  hold  you  for  the  present." 

Mugsy  was  led  to  a  cell  and  locked  up. 

The  colored  doorkeeper  was  next  in  turn. 

"What's  your  position  in  the  house?"  the  investigator 
inquired. 

"Doorkeeper,  sir." 

' '  You  let  the  people  in  and  out  ? ' ' 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Your  position  then  is  such  that  it  enables  you  to  be- 
come acquainted  with  many  of  the  regular  patrons  of  the 
establishment?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Did  you  know  many  who  spent  the  night  there?" 

"Yes,  sir." 


278  THE  THIRD  DEGREE 

''Well,  where  were  you  when  the  first  alarm  was  given 
— that's  when  Dinah  screemed  murder?" 

"I  was  asleep  in  my  chair  close  by  the  door." 

"What  did  you  do  then?" 

"I  opened  the  door  for  some  of  the  gentlemen  who 
wanted  to  go  out,  and  stayed  at  my  post." 

"Did  you  notice  any  of  those  who  went  past  you  as 
being  specially  excited?" 

"Dey  was  all  excited,  sir.  Some  of  the  gentlemen 
nearly  fell  down  the  steps." 

"Have  you  any  suspicion  of  any  one  that  you  noticed 
fleeing  away?" 

"No,  sir;  they  were  all  gentlemen." 

"Sergeant,"  addressing  an  officer  present,  "you  take 
this  man  and  have  him  give  you  the  names  of  those  who 
he  knew  were  present,"  and,  turning  to  the  colored  man, 
he  said: 

"My  man,  see  that  you  tell  all  you  know.  I  might 
inform  you  that  you're  suspected  already." 

"Good  lord!  Mr.  Officer,  how  can  you  'spect  me?" 

"Well,  I've  warned  you." 

The  officer  was  in  the  act  of  leading  him  away,  when 
the  lieutenant  said,  "Stop  a  minute,  I  want  to  ask  you  an- 
other question.  Between  the  hours  of  2  A.  M.  and  the  time 
of  the  alarm,  how  many  people  did  you  let  out?" 

"I  forget  exactly,  but  there  were  three  or  four." 

"Did  you  recognize  any  of  those  that  went  out  between 
those  hours  I  mentioned?" 

"No,  sir.  I  am  not  supposed  to  look  over-particular 
at  them.  They  don't  like  it,  so  I  just  open  the  door  when 
I  see  them  coming  along  the  passage." 

"That's  all,"  beckoning  to  the  officer  to  take  him  away. 

The  women  were  then  called  in  turn.     None  of  them 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE  279 

could  give  any  light  on  the  affair.  Some  had  retired  early 
in  the  evening,  and  heard  nothing  until  awakened  in  the 
morning  by  the  screaming  of  the  colored  woman. 

"You  had  a  friend  with  you  that  night?"  was  the 
query  put  to  all. 

''Yes,  sir." 

"What  was  his  name?" 

Some  refused  flatly  to  "peach."  All  of  those  an  officer 
was  told  to  take  to  a  cell. 

"I  will  give  you  a  chance  to  cool  off  and  refresh  your 
memory,"  he  said  to  the  aggressive  ones. 

Some  who  were  timid  made  no  bones  of  it,  but  gave 
the  name  and  standing  of  the  party  they  had  in  tow.  Others 
protested  they  didn't  know  who  the  gentleman  was.  "He 
was  only  a  casual  visitor." 

The  lieutenant's  experience  easily  formed  an  opinion 
of  the  truthfulness  of  their  statements  and  passed  them  up 
with  but  a  few  unimportant  and  sometimes  irrelevant  ques- 
tions to  the  amusement  of  those  present. 

"When  it  came  Lucretia's  turn,  the  lieutenant,  seeing 
her  youthful  appearance,  inquired,  "How  long  have  you 
followed  the  calling  you  are  in  now?" 

"About  four  years,"  in  a  confident  tone. 

"You  must  have  commenced  early?"  said  the  lieutenant. 

"Yes." 

"You  had  a  friend  that  night?" 

"Yes."  She  seemed  determined  to  speak  in  mono- 
sylables. 

"Do  you  know  his  name?" 

"No." 

"Well,  what  do  you  know  about  him?" 

"That  he  was  a  thorough  gentleman." 

"I  suppose  he  was  liberal  with  you?" 


280  THE  THIRD  DEGREE 

"Yes,  he  was  all  right." 

"Do  you  know  where  he  lives?" 

"Yes,  Nevada." 

"How  do  you  know  he  was  from  Nevada?" 

"He  told  me  so.  He  owns  a  gold  mine  out  there. "  This 
she  said  with  a  degree  of  pride. 

"What  leads  you  to  believe  he  owned  a  gold  mine?" 

"Because  he  told  me  so,  and  had  lots  of  money." 

"Did  you  see  his  wad?" 

"Yes,  he  had  a  roll  of  big  bills,  enough  to  stop  a  truck 
with." 

"And  you  let  him  get  away  with  it?" 

"I'm  no  thief,"  indignantly. 

"Well,  you  got  some  of  it?" 

"Yes,  all  I  was  entitled  to." 

"Did  he  spend  much  at  the  madam's?" 

"Yes,  lots." 

"Was  he  in  the  habit  of  visiting  you?" 

"Yes." 

"What  time  did  he  leave  that  morning?" 

"I  don't  know;  he  always  used  to  leave  early." 

"Do  you  expect  him  to  call  on  you  again?" 

"I  am  not  sure  now,  on  account  of  this  trouble.  If  it 
had  not  been  for  it,  I  was  going  back  to  Nevada  with  him. ' ' 

"You  think  he  was  all  right  then,  and  not  a  gay  de- 
ceiver?" looking  jokingly  at  her. 

"I  know  he  was." 

"Well,  we'll  have  to  take  your  word  for  it — ^that's  all, 
Miss." 

All  the  women  who  had  freely  given  up  the  names  of 
their  men  and  those  who  had  relented  after  a  few  hours  in 
the  cooler  were  discharged,  with  an  admonition  that  they 
would  have  to  report  in  a  few  days  at  headquarters,  when 


1   Am    Xo  Tim 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE  281 

they  would  be  notified  of  tlie  date  of  the  inquest,  as  they 
might  be  wanted  for  witnesses. 


That  morning  being  Monday,  Matthew  Howard  had  no 
sooner  sat  down  to  his  breakfast  than  Rachel  said,  "Matt, 
have  you  read  of  that  horrible  murder  in  Chicago?" 

''No,  where  was  it?" 

She  picked  up  the  paper  and,  finding  the  item,  which 
gave  a  graphic  description  of  the  killing  of  Madam  Blom- 
garten,  he  read  it  carefully.  Matt  laid  the  paper  down  in  a 
thoughtful  manner,  and  began  his  breakfast. 


The  result  of  the  investigation  by  the  police  in  refer- 
ence to  the  killing  of  Madam  Blomgarten  had  produced  little 
fruit,  except  the  disclosure  that  some  thirteen  of  Chicago's 
eminent  and  most  respected  citizens  were  in  close  proximity 
to  where  the  tragedy  had  taken  place.  Their  names,  occu- 
pations and  addresses  were  laid  snugly  away  in  the  desk  of 
a  lieutenant  of  police.  Mugsy  was  not  asked  to  further 
testify.  He  had  got  in  touch  with  his  old  friend,  Mr.  Dent, 
who  in  turn  had  notified  a  professional  bondsman  to  bail 
him  out,  and  furnish  such  bonds  as  might  be  deemed  neces- 
sary for  his  instant  release. 

When  the  chief  had  heard  of  the  humanitarian  act  of 
the  veteran  policeman,  who  had  removed  the  rope  from  the 
bed  post  so  as  to  give  Sadie  Blomgarten  a  more  restful  posi- 
tion on  the  floor,  he  got  furious  and  swore  like  a  trooper  at 
the  sergeant  who  had  given  him  the  information. 

""Why  did  you  put  such  a  duish  as  old  Muldoon  in 

charge  of  the  body?    Didn't  you  know  that  that  d old 

fool  would  make  a  blunder  if  possible?" 


282  THE  THIRD  DEGREE 

"I  couldn't  see  how  he  could,"  said  the  sergeant, 
meekly. 

' '  Well,  leave  it  to  him,  he  '11  find  a  way,  but  don 't  men- 
tion it  to  any  one  until  you  hear  further.  Have  they  laid 
out  the  body?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Then  get  the  rope  and  give  part  of  it  to  five  or  six  of 
our  plain  clothes  men,  who  will  visit  the  hardware  stores 
and  inquire  if  any  suspicious  persons  have  been  purchasing 
any  rope  of  a  similar  character  in  the  past  few  days,  and, 
as  you  are  in  charge,  go  notify  the  press  which  is  eager  for 
news  that  we  are  hot  on  the  trail  of  the  assassin  and  expect 
to  make  arrests  before  night.  You  see,  Serg.,  we  will  have 
to  do  something  to  save  our  face." 

The  sergeant  grinned.  "All  right,"  he  said,  "I'll  dope 
them  properly."  He  was  anxious  to  redeem  himself  for  the 
blunder  of  putting  the  veteran  policeman  in  charge  of 
Sadie's  remains. 

The  plain  clothes  men  who  visited  the  hardware  and 
other  stores,  on  making  inquiry  as  to  the  purchasers  of 
sash  cords,  were  met  with  the  general  reply: 

""Why,  that's  so  and  so's  sash  cord,  (mentioning  the 
name  of  the  maker).  It's  in  general  use.  We  sell  some  of 
it  every  day."    So  that  clue  was  abandoned. 

It  happened  at  the  time  that  both  the  city  administra- 
tion and  the  coroner  were  in  close  touch,  and  the  chief  and 
the  city  authorities  called  in  the  coroner  for  a  conference. 
The  chief  laid  the  facts  as  he  had  learned  them  before  him. 

"We  haven't  a  single  clue  to  work  on,"  he  said,  "and 
to  summon  those  who  were  in  the  house  on  the  night  of  the 
murder  to  give  evidence  before  your  jury  would  shake 
Chicago's  society  from  its  foundation." 


THE  THIRD  DEGREE  283 

With  that  he  handed  the  list  of  names  he  had  to  the 
coroner,  who  whistled  and  grinned  as  he  looked  over  them, 
and  then  handed  them  to  a  representative  of  the  executive 
who,  after  scanning  them  over,  smiled  and  looked  signifi- 
cantly at  both  chief  and  coroner. 

"And  another  difficulty  I  have  to  contend  against," 
said  the  chief,  "and  I  have  kept  it  quiet:  an  old  fossil  of  a 
policeman  took  the  rope  from  the  bed  post  she  was  hanging 
from  and  let  her  drop  to  the  floor  before  your  deputy," 
looking  at  the  coroner,  "reached  the  scene." 

"Well,  what  do  you  propose?"  inquired  the  coroner, 
looking  at  the  chief  of  police. 

"That  she  committed  suicide." 

The  coroner  laughed. 

"It's  the  only  thing,"  said  the  chief. 

The  representative  of  the  executive  nodded.  He  still 
had  the  list  of  names  in  his  hand. 

"Who  is  the  deputy  in  charge?"  he  inquired,  address- 
ing the  coroner. 

"M B ." 

"Well,  he's  all  right,  isn't  he?" 

"Yes." 

"And  I  suppose,"  said  the  chief,  "he  has  his  regular 
jury  with  him?" 

"Sure,"  replied  the  coroner. 

"Then  there  should  be  no  difficulty,"  said  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  executive. 

"But  what  about  the  state's  attorney?"  inquired  the 
coroner. 

"Let  him  go  to  h ,"  replied  the  chief,  "and  do  what 

he  pleases.    He  is  no  good,  anyhow." 

Two  weeks  after  Sadie  Blomgarten  was  killed  six  good 
men  and  true  sat  on  her. 


284  THE  THIRD  DEGREE 

Dinah,  the  colored  woman,  the  policeman  who  was  first 
on  the  scene,  and  the  doorkeeper  testified.  The  deputy- 
coroner  asked  them  a  few  irrelevant  questions.  The  fore- 
man of  the  jury  looked  at  the  deputy. 

The  deputy  said,  "I  believe  that  is  sufficient.'* 

The  six  men  sworn  to  maintain  the  constitution,  etc., 
etc.,  retired  and  brought  in  a  unanimous  verdict: 

"That  Sadie  Blomgarten,  during  a  fit  of  temporary 
insanity,  had  committed  suicide." 

A  verdict  that  was  heartily  approved  by  the  thirteen 
influential  and  honored  citizens,  whose  names  and  addresses 
the  chief  had,  and  from  whom  he  expected  a  liberal  contri- 
bution to  the  next  campaign  fund. 


THE  TRIANGLE  285 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 
THE  TRIANGLE. 

In  **the  good  old  days,"  when  Chicago  was  an  open 
town,  and  when  no  Personal  Liberty  League  was  required  to 
defend  the  inalienable  rights  of  the  dear  people,  there  stood 
opposite  the  Union  Depot  on  Canal  street,  between  Adams 
and  Madison  streets,  a  row  of  saloons,  each  a  temple  of 
liberty,  open  to  receive  "strangers."  and,  as  recorded  in 
Holy  writ,  ''ever  ready  to  take  them  in." 

During  the  liberal  times  we  refer  to  there  was  a  large 
influx  of  foreigners  to  our  shores,  with  little  knowledge  of 
the  generous  disposition  of  the  proprietors  of  those  institu- 
tions, who  provided  guides,  or  "runners"  as  they  were 
called,  to  steer  the  uninformed  from  the  depot  to  the  place 
where  lunch  was  given  away,  where  they  might  leave  their 
little  worldly  goods  for  safe  keeping,  meet  nice  sociable 
parties  who  would  entertain  them  during  their  stay  with  a 
friendly  game  of  dice,  or  cards,  and  so  amuse  them  after 
their  long,  tedious  journey  on  the  train  that  brought  them 
after  a  probably  longer  voyage  over  the  briny  sea.  The 
Union  Depot  was  a  fruitful  field  for  men  in  the  same  line 
of  business  as  Mr.  Isaac  Rosenthal's,  who  were  ever  ready 
to  conduct  a  lone  girl  who  was  in  doubt  as  to  the  way  she 
should  go.  They  were  ever  ready  to  lead  her  to  a  harbor 
of  rest  or  place  of  employment,  sometimes  going  to  the  ex- 
pense of  hiring  a  cab  to  facilitate  her  travel.  Nor  was  their 
solicitude  for  the  traveling  public  confined  exclusively  to 
the  cause  of  women;  occasionally  they  found  a  man  who 


286  THE  TRIANGLE 

might  want  advice  as  to  where  to  put  up  for  a  time  between 
his  arrival  and  departure. 

In  those  days  little  attention  was  given  to  emigrants 
by  either  government  or  railway  officials.  The  latter  landed 
them  at  the  place  their  railway  tickets  were  good  for,  and 
then  their  obligations  ceased.  And  the  United  States  Gov- 
ernment, ever  opposed  to  what  is  called  paternalism,  allowed 
the  strangers  to  shift  for  themselves.  While  the  police 
authorities  in  those  days,  who  owed  their  places  on  the  force 
to  the  politicians,  discreetly  took  care  of  themselves,  and 
seldom  or  ever  interfered  in  matters  that  they  considered  did 
not  concern  them,  or  they  were  in  cahoots  with  the  grafters, 
which  recent  developments  in  the  police  force  of  the  present 
day  would  warrant  us  was  possible  at  that  time.  The  system 
in  operation  by  Ike  Rosenthal  and  his  gang  was,  on  the 
arrival  of  an  emigrant  train  they  mingled  freely  with  the 
crowd,  anxiously  scanning  the  faces  of  the  strangers,  as  if 
in  search  of  some  person  they  expected.  They  never  inter- 
fered with  groups.  But  on  observing  a  lone  woman,  or  girl, 
they  would  accost  her  in  her  native  language.  (Ike  and  his 
associates  spoke  many  tongues.)  She  in  a  strange  land 
accosted  in  her  native  language  by  one  whom  she  believed 
to  be  her  countryman  immediately  became  imbued  with  con- 
fidence and  told  what  she  knew  of  any  person  resembling 
the  description,  and  if  she  had  failed  in  observing  any  per- 
son such  as  they  described  she  told  them  so.  Ike  and  his 
friends  assumed  to  be  in  great  distress.  The  young  person 
they  were  inquiring  about  was  a  sister,  or  cousin,  or  some 
very  dear  friend,  who,  they  were  sure,  sailed  on  the  same 
boat  that  brought  her.  The  woman,  or  girl,  they  were  hold- 
ing conversation  with  sympathized  with  them  in  their 
anxiety  as  a  rule.  But  she  herself  was  a  stranger,  who 
probably  expected  to  meet  some  person  or  persons  to  guide 


THE  TRIANGLE  287 

her  to  her  friends  if  she  had  any  in  the  city,  but  who, 
through  some  error  as  to  the  time  of  the  arrival  of  the  train, 
or  other  unforeseen  circumstance,  was  not  there  to  receive 
her. 

So  she  willingly  accepted  the  advice  or  assistance  of 
the  nice  young  gentlemen  who  unselfishly  were  willing  to 
lead  her  to  the  address,  if  she  had  one,  or  to  some  place 
suitable  to  her  present  necessities.  And  so  she  fell!  one  of 
the  thousands  lost  to  friends  and  kindred.  The  population 
of  our  country  was  not  so  large  in  those  days  as  it  is  at 
present,  when  it  is  computed  that  50,000  women  and  girls 
are  swallowed  up  annually  by  the  Moloch  or  some  other 
infernal  deity. 

In  those  days  there  were  few,  if  any,  to  keep  records 
of  the  waifs  and  strays  of  the  time,  unlike  today  where  many 
excellent  men  and  women  are  banded  together  for  the  pur- 
pose of  fighting  those  who  believe  in  and  profit  from  com- 
mercialized vice.  And  it  would  seem  as  if  the  forces  arrayed 
against  the  vicious  element  in  the  community  are  gradu- 
ally storming  their  outworks  and  will  soon  have  their  citadel 
leveled  to  the  dust,  when  ''Virtue  will  trimph  over  Vice." 

Another  healthy  sign  of  the  times  is  the  change  of  senti- 
ment among  the  people  as  to  the  status  of  those  addicted  to 
alcoholism.  But  a  very  few  years  ago,  the  man  who  was  a 
drunkard  was  looked  upon  with  commiseration,  a  good 
fellow  but  unfortunate.  Changing  opinion  today  foreshad- 
ows that  ere  many  years  he  will  be  treated  as  a  criminal, 
who  violates  every  rule  of  good  society,  who  shows  a  horrid 
example  to  others — a  man  to  be  condemned,  ostracized  by 
every  decent  person,  one  w^ho  brings  scandal  on  his  kith  and 
kindred,  misery,  poverty,  and  degradation  on  those  whom 
he  has  sworn  to  honor,  siipport,  and  protect,  even  upon  the 
very  offspring  God  hath  given  to  him  as  a  blessing,  but  whom 


288  THE  TRIANGLE 

he  deserts  in  his  love  for  liquor  and  the  smiles  of  the  grog- 
gery-keeper,  whose  wife  wears  furs  while  his  is  dressed  in 
tatters. 

The  children  of  the  one  are  well  fed  and  well  clad, 
while  his,  the  drunkard's,  go  without  food,  shoes,  or  shelter. 
Such  a  man  is  a  criminal  in  the  full  meaning  of  the  word, 
because  he  avoids  his  most  solemn  and  binding  obligations, 
shirks  his  duty,  and  imposes  on  the  community  who  invaria- 
bly have  to  come  to  the  rescue  or  aid  of  those  he  was  bound 
to  support.  He  is  a  canker  on  the  body  politic,  and  punish- 
ment commensurate  with  his  crime  should  be  meted  out  to 
him.  It  is  often  said  that  the  good  things  of  this  world  are 
unevenly  divided.  How  much  out  of  proportion  they  must 
be  when  a  sordid  sot  is  kept  in  employment  and  a  decent, 
sober,  industrious  person  is  permitted  to  walk  our  streets, 
day  after  day,  in  search  of  employment  so  as  to  provide  for 
those  he  loves  and  is  anxious  to  cherish  ?  If  those  deductions 
are  true,  the  inquiry  now  made  of  all  those  seeking  employ- 
ment in  commercial  or  manufacturing  institutions  is  justi- 
fiable, when  he  who  seeks  a  job  is  asked  to  answer  whether 
or  not  he  is  addicted  to  the  use  of  alcohol.  And  as  a  final 
proposition  we  would  inquire  of  all  our  readers,  is  it  to  be 
wondered  at  if  the  children  of  the  drunkards  fall  into  evil 
ways,  or  is  it,  as  recorded  in  Holy  Writ,  that  "the  sins  of 
the  Father  shall  visit  the  children  even  to  the  third  gener- 
ation?" 

But,  to  our  story.  The  runners  around  the  depot,  with 
brass  badges  on  their  arms  or  breasts,  and  the  name  of 
a  hotel  on  a  band  around  their  caps,  met  the  trains  as  they 
arrived  and  importuned  strangers  to  seek  rest  and  refresh- 
ments in  their  place,  where  everything  was  nice  and  re- 
spectable, and  good  lunch  served  free.  The  simplelK)n  once 
in  the  clutches  of  the  runner  was  an  easy  mark,  he  was 


THE  TRIANGLE  289 

lucky  to  get  away  with  his  clothes ;  if  he  had  some  baggage 
with  him,  and  it  was  found  that  he  was  only  waiting  for  an 
outgoing  train,  his  bag,  case,  or  bundle  was  ofttimes  rifled, 
so  that  when  he  reached  his  final  destination  he  might  find 
the  most  of  his  valuables  either  stolen  or  strayed.  If  he 
was  especially  easy  to  work,  he  might  be  inveigled  into  a 
sociable  game  of  dice  for  drinks.  At  the  beginning  he  might 
have  temporary  success  at  which  his  newly  found  acquaint- 
ances would  laugh  with  seeming  glee,  especially  when  the 
house  got  stuck,  the  bar  tender  as  a  rule  being  one  of  the 
players,  who  kept  tab  of  the  drinks  as  they  were  served; 
in  the  final  shake-off  as  to  who  would  pay  for  all,  he  always 
failed  and  when  the  total  amount  was  figured  up  for  him 
he  got  a  surprise,  his  kick  was  in  vain.  If  he  protested 
aloud  he  was  abused,  threatened,  and  denounced  as  a  beat 
who  Avas  trying  to  "put  it  over"  on  them.  There  was  no 
chance  to  escape  for  him,  as  all  the  hangers-on  who  had 
become  interested  in  the  game  stood  between  him  and  the 
door.  He  was  even  threatened  with  arrest,  and  ultimately 
was  forced  to  pay,  told  to  get  out  and  his  baggage  or  what 
still  remained  of  it  thrown  after  him  amid  the  jeers  of  the 
crowd  who  called  him  a  quitter,  if  not  worse. 

Ike  Rosenthal  and  his  pals  arrived  one  day  at  the  Union 
depot  to  meet  the  emigrant  train  a  short  time  before  it  was 
due.  Going  to  the  board  on  which  it  was  recorded  whether 
the  train  was  on  time  or  not,  they  found  it  would  be  two 
hours  late. 

"Let  us  go  over  to  ,"  mentioning  the  name  of  a 

co-religionist  of  his,  who  kept  a  saloon  opposite  the  railway 
station.  On  entering  the  bar  room  they  were  very  much 
amused  to  find  an  elderly  man  whose  long  whiskers,  rustic 
garb  and  top  boots  would  indicate  he  was  a  farmer.  He 
had  been  shaking  dice  for  the  drinks  before  Ike  and  his 


290  THE  TRIANGLE 

pals  came  in.     The  bartender  nodded  familiarly  to  Rosen- 
thal when  he  saw  him  enter, 

"What  are  you  going  to  have,  gentlemen?"  said  the 
bartender  to  the  newcomers. 

"I  have  just  lost  a  drink — what  will  you  take?" 

Ike  and  his  four  associates  gave  their  order  and  were 
duly  served,  the  man  behind  the  bar  putting  the  amount 
down  on  a  tab  so  as  not  to  cheat  his  employer,  who  was  one 
of  those  in  the  game. 

Ike  and  his  friends  became  very  much  interested  in  the 
sport ;  Ike  espousing  the  cause  of  the  farmer,  and  proposing 
to  back  him  for  a  dollar.  The  wager  was  immediately  taken 
up  by  one  of  his  friends.  The  game  had  proceeded  some 
time,  when  a  proposition  was  made  that  the  four  who  were 
playing  should  shake  the  dice  for  who'd  pay  for  all.  There 
was  some  discussion  as  to  how  it  should  be  decided.  Rosen- 
thal who  was  backing  the  farmer  made  a  suggestion,  that 
they  should  all  shake,  the  highest  dropping  out  each  time 
until  two  were  left,  those  two  to  shake  and  the  loser  to  pay 
for  all.    The  farmer  preferred  to  pay  his  share  and  quit. 

"Go  on,"  said  Ike,  tapping  him  on  the  shoulder.  "I'll 
bet  five  you're  not  stuck." 

The  runner  who  had  landed  him  was  also  confident  of 
his  ultimate  success,  or  professed  to  be,  so  urged  him  to 
stick.  The  farmer  still  hesitated  but,  being  persistently 
urged  by  his  newly  made  acquaintances,  consented  to  go 
to  the  finish. 

"I'll  bet  ten  to  five  my  friend  hasn't  to  pay  for  the 
drinks,"  said  Ike  Rosenthal,  flourishing  a  ten-dollar  bill. 

"I  will  take  your  fifteen  to  five,"  said  one  of  his  chums; 
"that's  the  betting." 

"I'll  bet  him  if  you'll  go  me  half,"  said  Ike,  looking  at 
the  countryman,  who  disclaimed  being  a  gambler. 


THE  TRIANGLE  291 

In  the  first  trial  the  farmer  was  third.  The  saloon 
keeper,  who  was  one  of  the  contestants,  being  highest,  was 
exempt. 

''I'll  take  a  cigar  on  this  one,"  he  said,  laughing. 

The  game  was  stopped  while  the  cigars  and  drinks 
were  being  served.  The  farmer  would  take  nothing,  his 
idea  being  to  curtail  the  cost  if  the  worst  happened  to  him. 

At  the  second  attempt,  when  the  three  remaining  shook 
off,  the  countryman  was  a  good  second. 

More  drinks  and  cigars,  and  then  the  final  tussle.  Ike 
Rosenthal  was  loud  in  his  support  of  the  stranger. 

"I'll  bet  a  tenner  my  friend  wins,"  he  said  flourishing 
a  roll  of  bills. 

"I  will  take  your  two  to  one,"  exclaimed  one  of  his 
accomplices. 

"AVhat  do  you  take  me  for?"  exclaimed  Ike,  assuming 
some  temper. 

There  was  some  by-play  among  the  consumers  present 
as  the  countryman  began  to  show  a  white  feather,  even  pro- 
posing to  pay  half  and  let  it  go  at  that.  Against  this  propo- 
sition the  bar  keeper  protested  loudly — it  was  all  or  nothing 
with  him.  The  crowd,  seeing  the  necessity  of  bracing  the 
sucker  up,  began  to  express  increased  confidence  in  his 
ultimate  success. 

"I  will  bet  fifteen  to  ten,  if  you  let  me  shake  for  him," 
said  Rosenthal  hastily. 

The  bar  keeper  would  not  agree  to  this.  "  I  am  shaking 
against  this  gentleman,"  he  said,  meekly,  "and  you're  not 
in  the  game." 

This  snub  seemed  to  arouse  Rosenthal's  ire,  who  told 
the  farmer  in  a  confident  manner,  "Go  ahead,  you're  sure 
to  beat  him." 

The  countryman  ultimately,  but  with  some  reluctance, 


292  THE  TRIANGLE 

phook  and  lost,  when  those  present  offered  their  condolence. 

"You're  out  of  luck,  old  man!"  said  Rosenthal,  in  a 
sympathetic  strain. 

The  bar  keeper,  after  serving  the  last  round,  figured 
up  from  his  tab,  and  announced  the  bill  as  eleven  dollars 
and  seventy  cents. 

The  farmer  set  up  a  howl  and  protested  he  wouldn't 
pay.  This  estranged  all  his  former  supporters,  who  shook 
him. 

The  bar  keeper,  professing  anger,  said,  "You'll  pay  be- 
fore you  leave  here." 

The  runner  who  had  brought  him  in  had  placed  his 
baggage  behind  the  bar  for  safe  keeping. 

The  countryman  was  at  bay — he  wasn't  going  to  pay 
any  such  amount. 

"You  won't;  won't  you?"  shouted  the  bar  keeper, 
reaching  to  the  shelf  behind  him  and  producing  a  horse 
pistol  about  a  foot  and  a  half  long,  one  that  had  done  service 
in  the  Revolutionary  war,  and  pointed  it  at  the  man  who 
had  backed  up  against  the  wall. 

"Don't  shoot  him!  Don't  shoot  him!"  exclaimed  a 
number  who  were  present,  as  if  in  alarm,  and  who  went  be- 
tween the  man  with  the  gun  and  the  man  he  was  pointing 
it  at. 

"He'll  pay,"  said  Ikey  Rosenthal,  who  could  hardly 
suppress  his  laughter. 

The  landlord  thought  it  was  time  to  interfere  and 
remonstrate  with  the  man  as  to  why  he  would  not  pay  his 
score.  The  man  still  remaining  obdurate,  he  gave  instruc- 
tions to  one  of  his  followers  to  go  get  a  policeman. 

When  one  of  "the  finest"  arrived  he  adjudicated  the 
case  by  saying  to  the  man,  "If  you  lost  you  must  pay  and 
if  you  don't  I'll  have  to  take  you  down." 


THE  TRIANGLE  293 

The  man,  seeing  no  redress  and  fearing  arrest,  paid  the 
amount ;  the  bar  keeper  handing  him  his  baggage.  When  he 
was  going  out  the  door,  the  saloon  keeper  said, 

"Wait,  and  take  something.    Don't  go  away  mad." 

But  the  countryman  was  in  no  humor  to  take  either  his 
drink  or  advice. 

''Let  us  go,"  said  Rosenthal,  looking  at  his  watch, 
"we'll  miss  this  train." 

"Take  something  before  you  go.  What  will  you  have, 
Jim?"  addressing  the  policeman. 

They  all  drank,  the  policeman,  the  decoys,  and  the 
saloon  keeper ;  the  unsavory  bunch  having  a  mutual  under- 
standing to  aid  and  not  retard  business  in  their  separate 
lines. 


294     ROBERT  HILL  TAKES  A  VACATION 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 
ROBERT  HILL  TAKES  A  VACATION. 

Robert  Hill  read  the  Chicago  papers  very  carefully 
for  days  after  the  killing  of  Sadie  Blomgarten  to  see  how 
the  press  and  public  took  it.  He  smiled  when  he  came  across 
the  paragraph  informing  their  readers  that  the  Chicago 
police  were  hot  on  the  trail  of  the  assassin,  and  would  prob- 
ably have  the  culprit  in  the  toils  before  night.  Another 
item  that  interested  him  was  the  statement  that  grave  sus- 
picion pointed  to  Mugsy,  who  had  been  held  pending  further 
inquiry.  He  was  anxious  to  hear  what  the  coroner's  verdict 
would  be,  but,  as  that  august  body  had  adjourned  for  two 
weeks,  he  had  to  curb  his  impatience. 

The  verdict  he  hoped  for  was  that  Sadie  Blomgarten 
was  strangled  by  some  person  to  whom  she  had  done  a 
grievous  wrong,  believing  as  he  did  that  such  a  decision 
would  be  a  warning  to  others  like  her  in  the  same  line  of 
business  to  refrain  from  purchasing  innocent  girls  and  forc- 
ing them  into  a  life  of  shame. 

On  the  fourth  day  after  the  execution  of  Sadie  the 
newspapers  had  a  description  of  her  funeral,  which  was  of 
an  imposing  character.  The  proprietors  of  every  house  of 
illfame  with  any  standing  in  the  community  were  there  in 
carriages,  as  were  their  inmates.  The  names  of  the  pall- 
bearers were  given,  all  with  but  two  exceptions  being  the 
proprietors  of  tough  saloons  in  the  neighborhood ;  these  two 
exceptions  were  a  bartender  and  Mugsy,  who  was  released 
the  day  before. 


ROBERT  HILL  TAKES  A  VACATION  295 

But  what  interested  him  most  of  all  was  an  announce- 
ment that  a  person  by  the  name  of  Isaac  Rosenthal  was 
chief  assistant  to  the  funeral  director,  and  that  to  him  in 
a  great  measure  the  credit  of  the  magnificent  demonstra- 
tion should  be  given,  as  it  was  he  who  had  sent  out  the 
notices  as  to  the  day  and  hour  of  funeral  and  the  advisability 
of  making  the  affair  one  of  such  proportions,  as  a  token  of 
the  high  esteem  the  lady  was  held  in  and  from  a  commer- 
cial point  of  view  advertising  at  the  same  time  the  fine 
figures  and  fine  feathers  of  the  girls  of  the  underworld,  but 
who  Ike  believed  should  be  considered  as  on  top.  Hill  knew 
the  name  of  his  sister's  betrayer,  but  had  no  knowledge  of 
his  address  or  where  he  might  be  found,  and  his  experience 
in  the  search  of  his  sister  led  him  to  believe  that  if  he  had 
to  hunt  for  him  in  the  labrynth  of  vice  in  Chicago  it  might 
take  weeks  or  months  to  find  him.  His  first  impulse  was 
to  employ  Tony,  but  he  abandoned  that  idea  as  quickly  as 
he  conceived  it. 

After  giving  the  matter  some  considerable  thought  he 
decided  on  a  plan,  which  proved  successful. 

He  wrote  a  letter,  imitating  a  woman's  writing  as 
nearly  as  he  could,  as  follows,  and  took  chances  on  its 
delivery : 

''Mr.  Isaac  Rosenthal. 

Dear  Sir: — As  one  of  those  who  attended  the  funeral 
of  our  late  lamented  sister  Sadie  Blomgarten,  I  was  much 
impressed  by  your  gentlemanly  conduct,  and  your  very  ex- 
cellent management  of  the  whole  affair.  I  have  a  desire  to 
make  your  acquaintance.  I  am  a  young  woman  of  eighteen 
and  some  people  say  of  prepossessing  appearance,  and  as 
I  live  at  home  with  my  people  it  would  be  unwise  for  you 
to  address  your  reply  to  my  house,  so  would  ask  you  to 


296  ROBERT  HILL  TAKES  A  VACATION 

send  me  your  address  to  General  Delivery  Chicago,  so  that 
I  may  further  communicate  with  you,  with  the  ultimate 
object  of  a  personal  interview. 

Sincerely  yours, 

Theresa  Nightingale." 

After  writing  the  letter,  Robert  Hill  had  some  doubts 
as  to  whether  the  person  at  the  window  of  the  general  de- 
livery would  give  him  Rosenthal 's  reply,  even  if  he  sent  one. 

"I  will  take  a  chance,"  he  said  to  himself.  "If  the 
letter  reaches  the  postoffice,  even  if  they  don't  give  it  to  me, 
I  probably  can  devise  a  way  to  get  it,  so  I  will  mail  mine 
from  Chicago  the  first  time  I'm  up." 

He  addressed  the  letter  to  the  home  of  the  late  Madam 
Blomgarten,  feeling  confident  it  would  be  delivered. 

On  the  Thursday  evening  following  the  tragedy  he 
called  at  the  store.  Rachel  was  rejoiced  to  see  him.  Her 
brother  Matt,  who  stood  close  by,  stared  at  him  before  he 
spoke. 

"Well,  Matt,  how  is  business?"  Hill  said  in  a  most 
casual  manner. 

Howard  still  gazed  at  him  to  see  if  any  facial  expression 
on  Hill's  part  would  lead  him  to  believe  that  he  surmised 
Howard's  knowledge  of  the  death  of  Sadie  Blomgarten, 
and  how  it  was  brought  about,  but  no  such  expression  was 
apparent. 

"Business  is  good,"  said  Matt.  After  a  pause,  "How 
is  the  sculptor  getting  on  with  that  monument  he  is  prepar- 
ing for  you?" 

"Slowly,"  was  Hill's  reply.  "You  see  it  is  a  big  job, 
and,  as  he  has  more  urgent  work  to  do  at  times,  I  have  in- 
structed him  that  he  may  delay  mine.    I  don't  want  him  to 


ROBERT  HILL  TAKES  A  VACATION  297 

hurry  it  anyhow,  as  I  am  paying  a  good  price  for  it  and 
want  a  good  job." 

"I  suppose  it  will  be  extra  grand?"  said  Rachel. 

"I  think  you  will  like  it,"  was  Hill's  reply.  "It  will 
be  both  massive  and  artistic." 

"When  will  it  be  ready?"  queried  Matt. 

"In  about  a  month." 

"I  supposed  you  could  get  one  all  ready  to  put  up,*' 
ventured  Rachel. 

"Not  to  my  liking." 

The  subject  was  then  dropped  for  ordinary  conversa- 
tion. When  Hill  left  Matthew  Howard  was  in  a  quandary 
— he  found  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  that  he  could  not 
fathom  his  friend's  thoughts. 

Hill  went  to  Chicago  on  Saturday  as  usual,  and  mailed 
the  letter  to  Rosenthal  in  a  far  north  side  box,  made  a  few 
purchases  for  himself  and  other  members  of  his  family  and 
bought  a  magnificent  bunch  of  American  Beauties  for  Rachel 

Howard.    Catching  an  early  train,  he  was  back  in  B in 

time  to  present  them  to  her. 

Rachel  was  delighted.  She  saw  in  the  gift  an  indica- 
tion that  Bob  was  coming  back  to  his  old  self,  and  her  heart 
was  glad. 

Matt  was  exceptionally  well  pleased. 

"You  didn't  stay  long  this  time?" 

' '  No,  I  was  lucky  to  get  through  and  get  the  train  back. 
But  I  must  be  getting  home.  I  have  a  few  things  here," 
alluding  to  a  bundle  he  had  under  his  arm  for  the  old 
woman  and  some  of  the  youngsters. 

Another  week  had  passed,  and  Howard  scanning  his 
paper  one  morning  was  more  than  surprised  to  read  of  the 
inquest  held  on  the  remains  of  Sadie  Blomgarten,  that  she 
had  committed  suicide  during  a  fit  of  temporary  insanity, 


298  ROBERT  HILL  TAKES  A  VACATION 

that  the  authorities  had  made  the  most  searching  inquiry, 
and  that  the  evidence  given  before  the  coroner  left  no  room 
for  any  other  verdict  but  that,  in  a  fit  of  temporary  insanity, 
she  had  taken  her  life. 

Howard  did  not  know  what  to  think;  the  evidence, 
however,  was  clear,  the  jury  must  have  learned  the  facts, 
and,  after  all  his  suspicion,  his  friend  Hill  had  neither  act 
nor  part  in  it. 

Hill  had  read  the  same  article  on  the  same  morning 
and  could  not  help  but  smile.  "I'll  go  over  to  Matt's  this 
evening, ' '  he  chuckled  to  himself.  * '  I  suppose  he  '11  be  brim 
full  of  news." 

On  his  arriving  at  Howard's,  Matt  looked  hard  at  him 
as  if  to  see  if  he  was  posted.  Hill  began  a  conversation  on 
some  trifling  subject,  and  at  length,  Howard's  patience  be- 
ing exhausted,  he  called  Hill  to  one  side. 

"Bob,  did  you  hear  the  news?" 

"No,  nothing  in  particular." 

* '  Then  it 's  a  startler.  Do  you  know  Madam  Blomgarten 
committed  suicide?" 

"You  don't  say!" 

"Yes,  it's  in  this  morning's  paper." 

"Let  me  read  it." 

"Rachel,  have  you  the  morning  paper  there?" 

"Yes,  here  it  is,"  handing  it  to  her  brother  who,  in 
turn,  handed  it  to  Hill,  at  the  same  time  pointing  to  the 
paragraph. 

Robert  Hill  assumed  to  read  it  very  carefully.  When 
he  had  read  it  through,  he  said,  turning  to  his  friend, 

"I  believe  there  is  a  God  in  Israel  after  all." 

That  was  his  sole  comment. 

Before  his  next  visit  to  Chicago  he  addressed  a  letter 
to  the  General  Delivery  department,  purporting  that  Miss 


ROBERT  HILL  TAKES  A  VACATION  299 

Theresa  Nightingale  was  sick  and  unable  to  call  for  her 
own  mail,  and  if  any  was  there  would  they  please  be  kind 
enough  to  give  it  to  her  brother  who  would  present  this 
letter. 

On  handing  it  to  the  nice  young  gentleman  who  attended 
to  the  General  Delivery,  he  read  it  carefully,  then  looked  at 
the  eminently  respectable  man  who  confronted  him  and 
handed  him  the  letter  without  a  moment's  hesitation. 

Hill  placed  the  letter  in  his  pocket,  thanked  the  young 
man,  and  walked  rapidly  away.  At  a  safe  distance  he  went 
into  a  restaurant,  ordered  some  lunch  and,  while  the  attend- 
ant went  to  bring  the  food,  he  eagerly  opened  and  scruti- 
nized the  letter.  Ikey  had  fallen  for  it.  He  wrote  he  was  de- 
lighted to  hear  from  the  young  lady,  and  would  feel  honored 

to  hear  further  from  her.    His  residence  was  — Ave.,  but 

he  would  be  glad  to  meet  her  at  any  place  and  at  any  time 
she  should  designate.  Before  writing  his  answer  to  Miss 
Nightingale,  he  had  shown  her  note  to  his  friends,  who 
chuckled  over  it. 

"I'll  bet  she's  a  peach,"  said  one. 

"You  must  have  impressed  her,"  said  another. 

"Hypnotized  her,"  is  the  proper  word,  said  a  third. 

Ikey  Rosenthal  swelled  his  breast  with  pride  and  began 
to  figure  what  was  in  it.  His  mental  calculations  proving 
satisfactory,  he  ordered  a  drink.  One  of  his  friends  jok- 
ingly proposed  Miss  Theresa  Nightingale's  health,  while  the 
others  laughed  at  the  witticism. 

Mr.  Robinson,  manager  at  the  mill,  was  somewhat  sur- 
prised one  evening  after  working  hours,  when  Hill  informed 
him  he  thought  of  taking  a  vacation. 

"You  see,  Mr.  Robinson,  I  have  everything  in  good 
shape  here  no"w,  and  William  being  about  as  proficient  as 
myself,  you'll  never  miss  me  for  a  couple  of  weeks." 


300  ROBERT  HILL  TAKES  A  VACATION 

"You  stay  for  a  month,  Bob,  if  you  like.  The  mill  will 
be  here  when  you  come  back.  Where  are  you  thinking  of 
going?" 

"I  am  going  down  East.  I  intend  to  visit  some  places 
like  ours.    While  away,  I  may  learn  something." 

"Then  charge  it  up  to  the  firm,"  said  Robinson. 

"Do  you  want  me  to  put  my  laundry  and  cigar  bills 
in?  and  I  might  want  to  treat  a  girl  if  I  should  happen  to 
meet  one  while  away,"  said  Bob,  laughing.  "And  how 
would  the  directors  like  to  read  of  that?" 

"Put  it  down  for  ' miscellaneous V '  replied  Robinson, 
"or  current  expenses,"  laughing  in  return.  "That's  what 
the  drummers  do." 

"No!  No!"  said  HilL  "I  am  well  satisfied  with  my 
vacation  with  full  pay." 

"When  do  you  intend  to  go?" 

"Saturday." 

"Well,  I'm  pleased  you're  going  and  hope  you'll  enjoy 
yourself." 

When  he  told  the  Howards,  Matt  expressed  his  pleasure 
at  his  going, 

"You  had  better  take  me  with  you,"  said  Rachel. 

"I  may — some  day,"  said  Hill,  significantly,  in  a  tone 
no  way  displeasing  to  Howard's  sister. 


VENGEANCE  ZOl 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 
VENGEANCE. 

On  the  Sunday  morning  after  Hill's  arrival  in  Chicago 
he  set  out  to  find  the  location  of  the  house  Rosenthal  had 
given  the  number  of.  He  was  somewhat  surprised  to  find 
from  appearances  it  was  a  residence  street,  and  remote  from 
the  "red  light"  district.  In  passing  along  the  street  he 
took  notice  of  the  numbers  and  found  that  one  was  that 
Rosenthal  had  given  in  his  note  to  Miss  Theresa  Nightingale. 
The  house  was  a  fairly  well  kept  brick  building  of  three 
stories,  the  brass  work  on  the  door  was  well  polished,  the 
steps  clean,  and  a  little  green  patch  in  front  seemed  to  be 
well  kept.  There  was  an  air  of  respectability  about  the 
entire  place,  in  fact  he  began  to  wonder  if  Mr.  Rosenthal 
was  a  family  man,  if  he  had  a  wife  and  children,  or  was 
this  the  abode  of  his  parents  ?  He  noticed  in  many  windows 
and  on  doorposts  on  the  street  a  card  on  which  was  printed 
"furnished  rooms  to  rent,"  or  "room  to  rent  on  the  1st 
flat,"  or  whatever  the  location  might  be. 

Hill  took  a  careful  view  of  the  surroundings. 

Among  other  matters  that  came  under  his  observation 
was  an  alley  some  hundred  feet  south  of  the  address  he  had. 
A  lamp-post  stood  a  little  way  fi-om  the  corner  of  the  alley. 
Satisfied  as  to  the  street  and  number,  and  the  general  loca- 
tion, Hill  decided  to  cease  his  investigation  for  the  day, 
visited  some  of  the  parks,  and  spent  the  evening  in  his  room 
at  the  hotel  where  he  had  put  up. 

To  make  inquiries  around  the  place  as  to  who  occupied 


302  VENGEANCE 

the  house  under  consideration  might  attract  attention;  that 
he  wished  to  avoid. 

On  Monday  morning,  as  early  as  8  o'clock,  he  stationed 
himself  a  full  block  from  the  house  he  was  there  to  watch. 
He  noticed  many  persons  leave  it,  men  and  women,  but 
none  in  any  way  resembling  the  description  of  the  party 
he  sought,  until  near  10  o'clock,  when  he  observed  a  dap- 
per young  fellow  descending  the  steps.  As  he  got  nearer 
he  noticed  his  cuffs  protruded  nearly  three  inches  lower 
than  his  coat  sleeve.  As  he  came  nearer  still  he  could  ob- 
serve the  ribbon  at  his  side  with  an  elaborate  seal,  he  had 
a  ring  on  his  finger,  and  a  bright  stone  in  his  shirt  front. 
On  the  whole  he  seemed  dressed  as  would  become  a  young 
gentleman,  occupying  a  good  social  position.  Hill  wondered 
if  that  could  be  the  party  he  was  in  quest  of. 

Whoever  he  was,  he  walked  jauntily  along,  twisting 
the  cane  he  held  in  his  hand,  till  he  came  to  a  corner  where 
a  cigar  store  was  situated.  He  went  in,  staying  but  a  few 
minutes.  When  he  came  out  he  had  a  lighted  cigar  in  his 
mouth  and  continued  his  journey  until  he  came  to  a  cross 
section  on  M-^hich  there  were  street  cars  running.  A  car 
approaching  rapidly  he  ran  and  jumped  on,  when  Hill  lost 
sight  of  him.  He  intended  to  follow  on  the  next  car,  but 
the  time  between  the  cars  was  so  long  that  Hill  was  com- 
pelled to  give  up  the  chase  for  the  day. 

The  following  morning  Hill  took  his  position  a  little 
way  from  that  which  he  had  taken  the  previous  day.  The 
same  persons  seemed  to  come  from  the  same  house,  and  at 
about  the  same  time  as  on  the  day  before.  The  very  well 
dressed  young  gentleman  came  down  the  steps  and  pursued 
his  way  until  he  came  to  the  cigar  store  before  mentioned, 
went  in,  and  in  a  few  minutes  came  out  smoking  a  cigar. 
After  he  had  gotten  away  a  little  distance  Hill  walked  into 


VENGEANCE  303 

the  store  and,  looking  over  the  cigars  in  the  case  as  if  he 
was  a  connoisseur,  said, 

"I  want  to  get  four  nice  cigars  for  a  half," 

"Havana  or  domestic?"  asked  the  man  behind  the 
counter. 

"I'm  not  particular." 

"Well,  here's  a  nice  cigar,"  taking  a  box  which  still 
remained  on  the  glass  counter,  "we  sell  a  good  many  of 
those.  A  gentleman  who  just  went  out  uses  them  regularly 
and  speaks  highly  of  them." 

"You  mean  that  well  dressed  fellow  that  I  saw  going 
out  before  I  came  in?" 

"Yes,  he  visits  me  nearly  ever  morning." 

"Judging  from  his  appearance  he  can  afford  to," 
smiling. 

"I  suppose  he's  a  banker  or  railway  director." 

The  man  laughed,  but  made  no  further  comment. 

"Take  one  with  me,"  said  Hill,  pushing  one  of  the 
cigars  in  the  direction  of  the  storekeeper  and,  going  to  a 
stand  where  there  was  a  little  gas  blazing,  lit  his  own. 

After  taking  a  few  puffs  he  remarked, 

"Those  are  all  right.  Your  customer  who  has  just  left 
might  be  complimented  on  his  judgment.  I  suppose  he  has 
plenty  of  money  anyhow." 

"Yes,"  said  the  man,  in  a  confidential  mood,  "he  gets 
it  easy." 

"Why,  what  does  he  do?"  inquired  Hill  in  an  offhand 
manner. 

"Does  everybody  he  can,"  said  the  cigar  dealer,  laugh- 
ing.    "He's  an  all  around  sport  and  gambler." 

"He  lives  around  here,  does  he?" 

"Yes,  a  little  way  up  the  street.  His  name  is  Rosen- 
thal." 


304  VENGEANCE 

Hill  felt  the  blood  tingling  in  his  veins. 

*'Good  day!"  he  said,  as  he  was  leaving. 

*'Call  again/'  said  the  man,  "and  thank  you." 

Hill,  on  the  third  morning  of  his  pursuit,  stationed  him- 
self at  the  crossing  where  he  expected  Rosenthal  to  take 
his  car.  He  let  many  cars  go  by  him,  until  he  saw  his 
quarry  coming.  Signaling  the  car  to  stop  he  got  on  and 
took  a  seat,  followed  a  moment  later  by  Mr.  Rosenthal,  who 
went  right  through  to  the  front,  as  he  was  smoking.  Hill 
noticed  he  was  well  known,  a  fellow  passenger  on  the  car 
saying, 

''Well,  Ikey,  how  are  they  coming?" 

"Pretty  good,"  was  Ikey's  reply. 

Hill  had  no  further  doubt.  "That's  the  man  who 
trapped  my  sister,"  he  said  to  himself,  a  look  of  hate 
mantling  his  face  which  he  covered  with  his  hand.  He 
watched  till  Rosenthal  was  about  to  get  off,  and  took  his 
place  behind  a  number  who  were  of  the  same  mind,  and 
following  Rosenthal  at  some  distance  saw  him  turn  into  a 
saloon. 

Hill  took  up  a  position  some  distance  away,  to  await 
Rosenthal's  coming  out,  but  after  a  vigil  of  upward  of 
two  hours  the  party  he  was  watching  never  showed  up.  He 
came  to  the  conclusion,  which  proved  to  be  correct,  that  the 
place  under  consideration  was  a  rendezvous.  The  following 
day,  at  about  the  time  he  expected  Rosenthal  to  put  in  an 
appearance,  he  took  a  position  somewhat  remote  from  the 
one  he  had  taken  the  day  previous,  but  whence  he  could 
have  an  unobstructed  view  of  the  saloon  entrance.  He  saw 
Rosenthal  enter  and  waited  in  the  hope  he  would  come  out, 
so  that  he  could  further  track  him.  He  hadn't  long  to  wait 
until  he  observed  Rosenthal  come  out,  followed  by  three 


VENGEANCE  305 

others.  They  all  jumped  on  a  passing  car  that  was  going 
north,  and  were  soon  lost  to  sight. 

Hill  entered  a  restaurant  that  was  close  at  hand  and 
dined.  It  was  then  past  noon,  when  leaving  the  restaurant 
and  crossing  the  road,  he  went  into  the  saloon  which  Rosen- 
thal and  his  pals  had  left  some  time  ago. 

There  was  a  cigar  case  just  inside  the  entrance,  and  then 
folding  doors.  Inside  the  doors  was  the  bar  proper,  where 
a  number  of  men  stood  smoking  and  drinking.  About  mid- 
way up  the  bar,  on  the  opposite  side,  were  a  number  of 
compartments  with  closed  doors,  in  which  he  could  hear 
men  and  women's  voices  in  lively  conversation.  At  the 
end  of  the  inclosed  rooms  there  was  a  door  leading  into  a 
passage.  Hill  ordered  a  glass  of  beer  and  a  cigar,  the  waiter 
struck  a  match  for  him  to  light  it.  He  then  stood  sipping 
his  beer  and  smoking  his  cigar,  seemingly  oblivious  of  those 
in  the  place.  He  had  been  there  but  a  short  time,  when  a 
man  accosted  him  with  the  announcement: 

"All  games  upstairs." 

"Thank  you,  but  I  haven't  time  today.  I  was  just 
waiting  for  a  party,  but  it  seems  as  if  they  were  not  com- 
ing, so  I  will  have  to  go." 

"Was  it  a  lady?" 

"Yes,"  said  Hill,  smiling, 

"Well  you'd  better  wait.    She'll  probably  turn  up." 

"No,  thank  you,  I  must  be  going,"  and  he  took  his 
departure. 

Opposite  the  saloon  and  gambling  house  there  was  a 
hotel  of  a  shady  character.  On  a  sign  on  the  doorjam  it 
said,  "Rooms  to  rent  by  day  or  week."  Hill  made  applica- 
tion for  a  front  room  and  was  told  he  could  have  one  on  the 
second  floor. 


306  VENGEANCE 

"Have  you  a  lady?"  inquired  the  woman  who  was 
acting  as  clerk. 

Hill  was  nonplussed  for  a  moment  for  a  reply.  At 
length  he  said,  "I  may  have,"  looking  at  the  woman,  who 
promptly  said, 

"If  you  are  going  to  stay  for  a  week  it  will  be  so 
much,"  mentioning  the  sum,  which  was  considerably  aug- 
mented by  the  probable  advent  of  a  woman. 

Hill  paid  the  price,  the  clerk  gave  him  the  key,  at  the 
same  time  instructing  a  slatternly-  looking  girl  to  show  the 
gentleman  to  his  room,  from  the  window  of  which  he  had 
a  full  view  of  the  saloon  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street. 

He  left  his  room  only  as  occasion  required,  to  visit 
the  bath  room,  or  to  get  his  meals.  No  cat  ever  more  per- 
sistently watched  a  hole  from  which  it  expected  a  rodent 
to  emerge  than  did  Hill  watch  the  saloon.  He  saw  the  people 
going  and  coming,  the  arrival  of  Ikey  Rosenthal  and  his 
departure.  He  noticed  about  9  in  the  evening  there  was  a 
large  influx  of  persons  and  the  departure  of  many  between 
the  hours  of  2  and  3  in  the  morning.  Rosenthal  seemed  to 
be  regular  in  his  attendance,  arriving  about  9  p.  m.  and 
leaving,  as  a  rule,  shortly  before  the  lights  went  out  in  the 
upper  rooms,  the  bar  being  open  all  night  and  men  and 
women  entering  and  departing.  In  those  he  had  no  interest. 
His  entire  thoughts  were  focused  on  one  individual  and  on 
him  alone. 

The  ordinary  street  cars  gave  but  little  accommodation 
to  those  who  were  out  late. 

What  was  known  as  the  owl  cars  did,  and  they  ran  but 
at  stated  periods  during  the  night.  Many  of  the  saloon 
patrons  who  had  far  to  go  availed  themselves  of  this  accom- 
modation, among  others  Isaac  Rosenthal,  Avho  generally 
caught  the  car  which  passed  the  saloon  about  '2:30  a.  m. 


Coram  Xoii  Jud'n 


VENGEANCE  307 

Hill 's  week  was  up.  He  left  the  place  during  the  after- 
noon, and,  having  no  baggage,  simply  walked  away.  He 
went  to  a  theatre  in  the  evening,  and  when  the  show  was 
over  went  to  a  restaurant  and  had  a  meal  he  sat  long  over. 
Abaut  1 :30  he  left,  and  walked  rapidly  south  in  the  dii-ec- 
tion  he  knew  would  lead  him  to  the  street  where  Ikey  Rosen- 
thal roomed.  He  took  a  position  well  up  in  the  alley,  but 
not  too  far  to  be  out  of  hearing  of  whatever  footsteps  might 
come  that  way.  In  the  still  morning  he  could  distinctly 
hear  the  horse  car  stop  at  the  crossing  to  take  passengers 
on  or  let  them  off.  All  the  surroundings  were  as  quiet  as 
if  the  world  slept — only  when  the  street  car  went  rumbling 
by.  About  a  quarter  to  three  he  heard  a  car  stop.  He 
listened  intently.  A  foostep  sure !  'TAvas  he,  the  man  he 
sought.  He  came  jauntily  along  twisting  his  cane,  a  cigar 
in  his  mouth.  He  had  reached  the  alley  when  a  giant  figure 
pounced  on  him.  Grasping  him  by  the  throat  in  his  fury, 
he  lifted  him  from  his  feet  and  forced  him  toward  the  lamp- 
post. Rosenthal,  in  his  throes,  extended  his  hand  to  his  hip 
pocket  and  in  a  final  effort  pulled  his  gun.  His  Nemesis, 
having  forced  him  to  the  lamp-post,  held  him  there  with  his 
left  hand  as  if  he  was  in  a  vise,  and  with  his  right  he 
wrenched  the  gun  from  him,  slipping  it  into  his  own  coat 
pocket.  His  right  hand  now  free,  he  placed  them  both 
around  RosenthaFs  throat  until  he  saw  life  was  fast  fleeing 
from  the  wretch,  though  still  conscious. 

"The  Lord  hath  delivered  thee  into  my  hands!"  his 
executioner  cried.  "Martha  Hill,"  he  whispered  to  him, 
"3^ou  remember  her!  her  who  was  afterward  called  Clemen- 
tina Montague?  You  slaver,  you  die,  you  wretch,  and  may 
you  be  eternally  damned ! ' ' 

The  form  of  the  man  that  had  been  strangled  was  then 
too  limp  to  stand.     Hill  had  to  press  his  body  against  the 


308  VENGEANCE 

lamp-post  to  keep  it  erect.  Placing  his  hand  in  the  breast 
pocket  of  his  coat  and  extracting  a  rope,  he  wrapped  it 
around  the  now  dead  man's  throat,  and  securely  tied  him 
to  the  post.  Taking  the  gun  he  had  gotten  from  his  victim 
he  slipped  it  into  his  pocket.  For  a  second  he  gazed  on 
the  face  of  the  dead  and  then,  spitting  upon  it,  walked  up 
the  alley  and  was  lost  to  sight. 


MUGSY  HAS  A  CLOSE  CALL  309 

CHAPTER  XXXVH. 
MUGSY  HAS  A  CLOSE  CALL. 

A  laborer  going  to  his  work  early  one  morning,  with  his 
dinner  pail  in  his  hand,  was  the  first  to  encounter  the  body 
of  Isaac  Rosenthal.  Struck  dumb  with  fright,  he  dropped 
his  can,  and  ran  to  the  corner  of  the  street  where,  recover- 
ing his  speech,  he  shouted  loudly: 

"Police!    Police!" 

A  couple  of  officers  came  running  from  different  direc- 
tions.   The  first  one  reaching  him  said : 

*' "What's  up?    Stop  your  bellowing." 

The  workman  grasped  the  first  policeman  by  the  arm 
just  as  the  second  arrived,  and,  being  too  excited  to  explain, 
led  the  officers  to  where  the  body  of  Rosenthal  was  tied  to 
the  lamp  post.  The  policemen  in  turn  were  horrified  at  the 
ghastly  sight,  but  immediately  got  busy.  One  ran  to  call  up 
the  patrol  Avagon,  while  the  other  remained  with  the  corpse 
and  the  workman.  When  the  wagon  arrived  the  remains 
were  loosened  from  the  lamp  post  and  dumped  into  the  con- 
veyance. On  the  arrival  of  the  wagon  at  the  Central,  the 
body  of  the  white  slaver  was  taken  in  and  laid  on  the  squad 
room  floor. 

"Why,  that's  Ikey  Rosenthal!"  said  one  of  the  officers 
present. 

The  body  was  recognized  by  others,  as  both  he  and  his 
antecedents  were  well  known  to  the  police. 

"Be  jabers,  he  got  what  was  coming  to  him !"  remarked 
a  son  of  the  Emerald  Isle  in  an  undertone  to  the  man  who 


310  MUGSY  HAS  A  CLOSE  CALL 

patrolled  the  same  beat  with  him.  *'He  was  a  bad  actor," 
he  continued. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  chief,  who  had  been  notified  by 
phone,  he  gave  but  a  casual  glance  at  the  body,  but,  on  being 
handed  the  rope  by  which  the  body  was  bound,  he  became 
immediately  interested. 

"Is  Sergeant  Morrissey  here?"  he  inquired. 

''No,  sir,  but  he  is  due  any  moment." 

"Tell  him  when  he  arrives  I  want  to  see  him." 

On  the  arrival  of  Morrissey,  he  had  no  sooner  entered 
the  office  of  the  chief  than  that  official  handed  him  the  piece 
of  sash-eord  by  v/hich  the  body  of  the  man  had  been  tied  to 
the  post. 

"Ever  see  anything  like  that  before?"  inquired  the 
chief,  looking  up  at  him. 

' '  Yes,  chief,  that 's  the  same  kind  of  cord  by  which  Sadie 
Blomgarten  was  strangled,  probably  part  of  the  same  bundle 
or  roll. ' ' 

"Then  you've  got  a  clew.  The  same  man,  whoever  he  is, 
committed  both  crimes." 

"Yes,  but  you  know,  chief,  Sadie  committed  suicide." 

Both  laughed,  enjoying  the  joke. 

"Well,  while  this  fellow  is  no  loss  to  society,  I  want 
you  to  get  busy.  We  must  do  something  for  the  reputation 
of  the  department." 

Immediately  a  number  of  plain  clothes  men  were  sent 
out  in  pursuit  of  the  murderer.  The  afternoon  newspapers 
had  display  head  lines,  announcing  "The  Assassination  of 
ISAAC  ROSENTHAL,  A  WELL  KNOWN  SPORTING 
MAN,  WITHIN  A  HUNDRED  FEET  OF  HIS  RESIDENCE. 

Then  followed  a  graphic  description  of  how  he  was 
discovered  by  a  laborer  (giving  his  name)  on  going  to  his 
work  in  the  early  morn,  how  he  was  found,  the  method  of 


MUGSY  HAS  A  CLOSE  CALL  311 

his  undoing,  a  brief  history  of  the  man,  partly  correct  and 
partly  from  the  imaginations  of  the  versatile  reporters, 
who  recognized  the  affair  as  furnishing  a  good  story.  There 
were  pictures  of  the  man  from  the  photographs  obtained 
from  the  woman  who  ran  the  rooming  house  in  which  he  had 
boarded.  All  the  photos,  with  one  exception,  showed  Mr. 
Isaac  Rosenthal  as  a  very  well-groomed,  gentlemanly  young 
fellow.  Many  a  simple  maid  fell  for  one  of  them;  as  the 
enterprising  Ike  had  stereoptyped  letters  full  of  gush  and 
requesting  an  exchange  of  photos  with  the  innocents  who 
would  correspond  with  him.  If  to  work  her  was  easy,  Ike 
would  promise  her  a  good  situation,  either  as  clerk  or,  if 
she  was  dramatically  inclined,  a  position  with  a  company 
that  was  just  organizing ;  or  any  other  old  thing  he  thought 
she'd  bite  at.  He  never  failed,  however,  to  inform  them 
that  "he  was  a  single  young  man  in  good  circumstances,  he 
was  very  much  impressed  with  the  nice  picture  she  had  sent 
him,  and  he  hoped  to  soon  have  the  exceeding  pleasure  of 
contemplating  the  original.    With  sincere  regards,  etc." 

The  exceptional  picture  was  a  scoop  by  one  of  the  re- 
porters, who  obtained  a  picture  of  Ikey  at  the  rogues'  gal- 
lery when  he  was  arrested  as  a  youngster  following  the 
vulgar  occupation  of  a  common  dip  working  the  cars  on 
Halsted  street,  between  Madison  and  12th  streets. 

The  search  for  Rosenthal's  assassin  was  pursued  with 
vigor.  Ike's  associates  were  interviewed,  who  promised  to 
give  such  assistance  as  they  could  and  even  a  little  money 
to  the  "cop"  who'd  catch  the  culprit.  Many  clews  were 
hunted  down,  his  going  and  coming  for  days  before  his  tak- 
ing off  was  laid  bare,  to  find  had  he  any  quarrel  with  any  one 
in  particular  or  had  any  person  been  seen  following  him  the 
night  he  left  the  gambling  house,  but  all  failed  save  one. 

Mugsy  had  been  known  to  threaten  him,  had  ill-used 


312  MUGSY  HAS  A  CLOSE  CALL 

him  on  one  occasion,  and  swore  he  would  get  even  with 
him  on  another.  This  was  after  the  famous  Dent  divorce 
case  in  which,  no  doubt,  he  had  furnished  evidence  for  the 
complainant.  So  the  wise  guys  on  the  force  resolved  to 
make  Mugsy  the  goat,  their  case  against  him  being  strength- 
ened by  the  theory  that,  despite  the  coroner's  verdict  as  to 
Sadie  Blomgarten's  suicide,  she  might  have  been  murdered 
after  all,  and  Mugsy  was  in  the  house  at  the  time. 

So  Mugsy  was  pinched,  held  to  the  grand  jury  without 
bail,  and  indicted. 

Ike's  friends  were  bitter  against  Mugsy,  and  prepared 
to  swear  a  hole  through  a  brick  wall  to  convict  him. 

It  was  shown  that,  after  the  death  of  his  old  mistress, 
he  had  led  a  precarious  life,  his  woman  having  to  support 
him  by  her  earnings  on  the  street.  The  night  preceding  the 
murder  she  was  as  full  of  booze  as  an  egg  was  full  of  meat. 
She  swore  point  blank  that  she  and  her  man  Mugsy  went 
to  their  room  about  one  in  the  morning,  and  stayed  there 
all  night,  but  on  being  given  a  grueling  at  police  headquar- 
ters she  broke  down  completely  and  had  to  admit  that  she 
was  so  piped  that  she  didn't  know  where  she  was.  It  looked 
bad  for  Mugsy — a  strong  circumstantial  case  having  been 
made  against  him.  His  old  friend,  Dent,  ultimately  came  to 
his  rescue.  He  felt  assured  of  Mugsy 's  innocence.  It  didn't 
make  any  difference  with  him  whether  or  not  his  hatred  for 
Rosenthal  was  intense,  as  he  was  advised  by  his  attorneys 
in  the  divorce  case  that  it  was  Rosenthal  that  furnished  the 
most  damaging  evidence  against  him.  He  also  figured  as 
a  practical  man  of  affairs.  It  was  no  slouch  who  had  done 
this  job,  but  a  man  or  men  who  had  laid  their  plans  to  a 
nicety,  of  which  Mugsy  was  incapable.  So  Dent  put  his 
agents  to  work  who,  in  time,  furnished  a  reasonable  alibi, 
not  unsatisfactory  to  the  then  state's  attorney,  who,  when 


MUGSY  HAS  A  CLOSE  CALL  313 

the  case  came  np  for  final  hearing,  entered  a  plea  of  "nolle 
prosequi,"  to  the  surprise  of  Ike's  friends  and  mourners,  and 
the  relief  of  Mugsy,  who  was  discharged. 

The  chief  of  police  and  some  of  his  subordinates,  after 
their  case  against  Mugsy  had  collapsed,  held  a  conference 
at  which  they  permitted  some  of  the  newspaper  reporters  to 
be  present.     When  they  were  assembled,  he  said: 

"Gentlemen,  I  must  admit  we  are  completely  baffled  in 
this  case.  I  thought  we  had  the  right  fellow  and  as  it  is  I 
am  far  from  satisfied,  but  the  state  thought  differently^  so 
that  is  an  end  of  it." 

"Why  don't  you  trace  some  of  Rosenthal's  enemies?" 
spoke  up  one  of  the  young  reporters.  ' '  Some  person  he  has 
wronged?" 

"Young  man,"  replied  the  chief,  looking  at  him, 
"they're  too  numerous  and  spread  too  widely  apart.  You 
know  the  line  of  business  he  was  in." 

"Yes,  I  have  heard  of  it." 

"Well,  then,  if  we  would  undertake  to  hunt  up  ten  per 
cent  of  them,  my  men  couldn't  do  it  in  a  year,  nor  would 
our  appropriation  be  able  to  meet  the  expense.  So  the  case 
is  dropped.  My  own  opinion  is  some  dangerous  lunatic 
through  some  wrong  or  fancied  wrong  is  at  large,  and  com- 
mitted that  and  another  crime  which  I  don't  care  to  men- 
tion, but  with  which  you  are  all  familiar.  And  we  will  be 
fortunate  if  we  don't  hear  of  some  more  of  his  doings.  So 
all  I  can  do  now  is  to  have  my  men  on  the  alei-t.  Take  a 
cigar,  boys,  and  forget  it  for  the  time." 

The  newsies  gave  a  synopsis  of  the  interview,  laying 
stress  on  the  chief's  opinion  of  the  dangerous  lunatic  tJhat 
was  abroad,  which  frightened  many  nervous  people,  until 
other  events  arose  which  eliminated  Rosenthal  et.  al.  from 
their  minds. 


314  PEACE  REIGNS  IN  B 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 
PEACE  REIGNS  IN  B . 

Rachel  Howard  had  an  opportunity  to  glance  over  the 
morning  papers  while  awaiting  her  brother  Matt  to  come 
to  his  breakfast.  Whenever  an  item  of  special  interest 
came  to  her  notice,  she,  as  a  rule,  called  Matt's  attention  to 
it  as  a  part  of  their  morning  gossip.  Having  noticed  the 
newspaper  account  of  the  killing  of  Rosenthal,  he  had  no 
sooner  taken  his  seat  than  she  said: 

"Matt,  there's  been  another  horrible  murder  in  Chi- 
cago." 

"That's  no  news,"  he  said,  proceeding  with  his  break- 
fast. "There's  a  murder  in  Chicago  every  daj^  and  some 
times  two."  He  was  nearly  through  with  his  morning  meal, 
when  he  picked  up  the  paper.  At  the  first  glance  he  saw 
the  headlines  referring  to  the  murder  of  Rosenthal,  and  he 
could  hardly  disguise  his  agitation.  As  a  law-abiding  citizen 
it  was  somewhat  repellant  to  him,  and  he  thought  seriously 
over  the  matter.    Addressing  his  sister,  he  said : 

"Rachel,  isn't  it  strange  that  Robert  never  wrote  while 
he  has  been  away,  now  over  two  weeks?  I  wonder  if  he 
wrote  to  his  people." 

"No,  I  was  there  last  night,  and  his  mother  was  com- 
plaining of  his  neglect." 

Howard  began  to  study,  his  mind  reverting  to  the  kill- 
ing of  Sadie  Blomgarten.  The  coroner's  verdict  had  set 
his  mind  at  rest  on  that  question.  He  believed  Robert  Ilill 
was  in  no  way  implicated  in  it,  and  he  felt  relieved,  but 


PEACE  REIGNS  IN  B 315 

now  the  Rosenthal  case  revived  his  suspicions.  He  remem- 
bered Hill's  oath  to  be  revenged  for  the  frightful  wrong 
which  had  been  done  his  sister  and  like  a  flash  it  came  to 
his  mind  that  on  the  occasion  of  his  going  to  Robert's  house 
to  inquire  why  he  had  abstained  from  visiting  them,  he 
noticed  Robert  in  the  little  workshop  in  the  act  of  adjust- 
ing a  noose  on  a  piece  of  sash  cord,  and  he  remembered 
Robert's  haste  in  placing  it  in  a  drawer  when  he  came  in 
upon  him  unawares.  So  he  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that 
his  old  comrade  was  the  perpetrator  of  both  those  crimes. 

A  tear  welled  up  in  his  eyes  as  he  thought  of  his  dead 
sweetheart  lying  cold  in  her  grave,  and  of  those  two  beings 
done  to  death  as  the  authors  of  her  misfortune,  and  his 
broken  heart.  He  looked  across  the  table  at  his  sister, 
young  and  virtuous,  and  his  heart  was  steeled. 

"By  God!"  he  said  to  himself,  "if  such  had  happened 
Rachel  I  would  have  acted  as  Robert  has  done  if  I  had  the 
courage  and  determination  that  he  has.  He  has  but  meted 
out  a  fitting  punishment  to  the  monsters." 

* '  I  am  very  anxious  to  hear  from  Robert, ' '  he  said  aloud, 
as  he  left  the  table  abruptly,  without  any  comment  on  what 
he  read  in  the  paper,  a  subject  on  which  Rachel  expected 
him  to  dwell  as  part  of  their  table  talk. 

Matthew  Howard  spent  forty-eight  anxious  hours  in 
waiting  to  hear  from  his  friend.  He  was  afraid  something 
ill  might  have  befallen  him.  On  the  third  day,  in  sorting 
his  mail,  he  observed  a  letter  from  New  York.  He  knew 
the  handwriting  on  the  envelope  and  hastily  ripped  it  open 
— it  was  from  his  boyhood  companion,  and  read  as  follows: 

"New  York,  . 

Mr.  Matthew  Howard. 

Friend  Matt: — I  suppose  you'll  never  forgive  me  for 


316  PEACE  REIGNS  IN  B 

not  writing  to  you  before  this.  Tlie  facts  are,  I  haven't  had 
time  to  write,  I  have  been  so  busy  visiting  the  wonders  in 
this  great  metropolis.  I  am  trying  to  see  every  thing  worth 
seeing:  the  docks  with  all  their  shipping,  the  great  trans- 
Atlantic  vessels,  so  different  to  those  your  parents  and  mine 
came  over  in,  Castle  Garden,  where  my  pai-ents  first  put 
foot  on  our  shores.  I  don't  know  whether  yours  came 
through  there  or  not,  it's  a  very  busy  place,  and  I  was  very 
much  interested  in  the  sights  I  saw  there.  New  York  has 
magnificent  buildings,  churches  and  theatres.  And  as  for 
Coney  Island,  that's  a  summer  resort  worth  coming  all  the 
way  from  our  town  to  see ;  but,  when  I  get  home,  I  will  tell 
you  all  about  it.  I  am  having  a  splendid  time,  and  never 
felt  better.  Give  my  love  to  Rachel  and  all  the  members  of 
the  family,  not  forgetting  yourself. 

Your  old  friend  and  boyhood  companion, 

Robert  Hill." 

He  had  no  sooner  read  the  letter  than  he  left  all  other 
correspondence  unopened,  and  went  to  the  dining  room, 
where  he  knew  his  breakfast  was  waiting.  Taking  his  seat, 
Rachel  began  to  pour  out  the  coffee. 

"I  have  got  a  letter  from  Bob  at  last,"  he  said,  address- 
ing his  sister. 

"Where  is  he?"  she  inquired  anxiously.  "Does  he  say 
when  he  is  coming  home?" 

"He's  in  New  York.    I'll  read  you  his  letter." 

She  listened  attentively,  a  smile  of  gladness  illuming 
her  face  as  he  proceeded.  When  he  came  to  that  part  "Give 
my  love  to  Rachel"  he  paused,  and,  glancing  at  his  sister,  a 
blush  came  over  her  face.  "And  all  the  members  of  the 
family,"  he  continued. 

Of  those  she  had  no  jealousy.     That  latter  part  was 


PEACE  KEIGNS  IN  B 317 

merely  formal,  but  "Give  my  love  to  Rachel"  made  her 
heart  beat  faster. 

"He  don't  say  when  he's  coming  back?"  remarked 
Rachel. 

"He  won't  be  long  now,"  remarked  her  brother.  "I 
am  glad  Bob  is  having  so  good  a  time." 

When  Matt  got  back  to  his  office  he  picked  up  the 
envelope  and,  comparing  the  time  on  the  letter  head  with 
the  date  of  its  mailing  in  New  York,  saw  a  discrepancy  of 
two  days.  "I  didn't  think  it  was  in  Bob,"  he  communed 
within  himself. 

Two  days  following  the  first  letter  from  Hill,  Matt 
Howard  found  another  in  his  mail.  It  was  addressed  to 
Rachel  Howard.  When  he  handed  it  to  her  he  noticed  the 
eagerness  with  which  she  received  it.  She  was  about  to 
place  it  in  her  pocket,  so  as  to  enjoy  reading  it  in  the 
privacy  of  her  own  room. 

"Read  it,"  said  Matt,  smiling  at  her. 

Her  face  flushed.  She  thought  there  might  be  some 
tender  sentiment  in  it  exclusively  for  herself.  She  opened 
the  letter  and  commenced  to  read,  intending  to  skip  any  part 
too  sacred  to  be  shared  in  by  any  than  herself.    It  read: 


"Boston, . 

Miss  Rachel  Howard. 

My  Dear  Rachel: — I  presume,  before  you  receive  this, 
Matt  has  informed  you  where  I  was  and  how  I  was  passing 
my  time.  Well,  I  did  New  York  to  a  finish,  saw  and  took 
in  everything  I  thought  worth  seeing,  and  took  a  trip  by 
boat  to  Boston,  a  delightful  journey.  This  old  quaint  city 
differs  much  from  the  more  modern  communities;  its 
crooked,  narrow  streets  and  ancient  buildings.  It  has,  how- 
ever, hallowed  memories  and  landmarks  that  every  Ameri- 


318  PEACE  REIGNS  IN  B 

can  should  revere.  As  we  are  taught,  it  was  the  Cradle  of 
Liberty,  'twas  here  the  colonists  were  most  aggressive  against 
British  tyranny.  'Twas  here  the  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill  was 
fought.  'Twas  here  the  patriots  had  their  monster  tea 
party  when  they  threw  hundreds  of  chests  of  tea  into  the 
bay  before  they  would  pay  the  tax  on  it.  They  were  men 
in  those  days,  with  the  courage  and  determination  to  oppose 
a  wrong  even  at  the  risk  of  their  lives.  All  honor  to  them. 
But  I  will  have  to  defer  further,  until  I  have  the  opportunity 
to  recount  all  my  experiences  since  I  left  our  good  town 
of  B .  And  I  will  conclude  by  telling  you  I  am  begin- 
ning to  get  homesickness,  and  long  to  be  back  again  with 
you  and  all  those  I  love.  I  will  leave  here  in  a  couple  of 
days  for  Chicago,  where  I  have  to  make  arrangements  for  the 
shipping  of  the  tombstone  to  be  placed  over  Martha's  grave, 
as  I  have  been  notified  it  has  been  ready  for  some  time  and 
they  are  waiting  my  instructions  to  ship  it.  "Will  write  from 
Chicago  what  day  you  may  expect  me  home. 
Your  devoted  friend, 

Robert  Hill." 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  reading  of  the  letter  Matt 
looked  at  his  sister  and  smiled. 

"A  very  business-like  letter.  Sis,  not  the  kind  of  one 
you  expected."  She  blushed.  He  had  hit  the  mark.  She 
was  glad  to  hear  from  Robert  whom  as  a  man  she  loved  and 
as  a  boy  she  and  Martha  had  pegged  with  tufts  of  grass  and 
stones  in  the  pool  where  he  and  her  brother  were  bathing, 
so  as  to  irritate  them. 

Four  days  later,  another  letter  arrived.  It  was  brief, 
and  addressed  to  Matthew  Howard: 


"Chicago,  . 

Friend  Matt: — Will  leave  for  home  by  the  noon  train 


PEACE  REIGNS  IN  B 319 

tomorrow.    Have  had  stone  crated  and  forwarded  by  freight. 

I  hope  you  will  like  it  when  you  see  it.    It  is  massive,  and  the 

wording  on  it,  the  sentiment,  the  arrangement  and  style  of 

letters  please  me  very  much.     I  am  well  satisved  with  it 

and  believe  you  and  Rachel  will  approve  of  it  when  you 

see  it.  o-  1 

Sincerely  yours, 

Robert  Hill." 

After  Matt  had  read  the  letter  to  his  sister,  he  said : 

"Now,  Rachel,  as  I  am  going  to  meet  Bob  tomorrow 
and  bring  him  here,  if  he  is  willing  to  come,  I  want  you  to 
prepare  a  nice  lunch.  Probably  he  has  been  so  busy  in 
Chicago  the  last  couple  of  days  he  hasn't  had  time  to  eat." 

Rachel  would  have  liked  to  have  been  the  first  to  meet 
him  and  welcome  him  home,  but  her  modesty  would  not 
permit,  besides  she  had  to  prepare  the  lunch.  She  sincerely 
hoped  Bob  Avould  come  to  their  place  first,  though  she  had 
her  misgivings.  She  knew  what  a  devoted  son  he  was,  and 
that  his  parents  had  the  first  claim  upon  him. 

There  was  quite  a  group  at  the  depot  when  the  train 
on  which  Robert  Hill  was  expected  came  steaming  into  the 
railway  station  at  B . 

Matt  Howard  and  Mr.  Robinson,  manager  of  the  mill, 
had  been  talking  together,  when  they  heard  a  shout:  ''Here 
he  is!"  and  the  crowd  surged  toward  the  car  where  Robert 
Hill  was  standing  on  the  steps. 

Matt  Howard  was  the  first  to  greet  him,  having  a  prior 
claim. 

*'How  are  you.  Bob?"  as  they  grasped  hands. 

"As  good  as  a  certified  check  of  yours  on  our  bank," 
nodding  to  the  cashier  who,  he  noticed,  was  present,  and 
who  came  forward  to  shake  hands  with  him,  as  did  Mr. 
Robinson  and  a  number  present. 


320  PEACE  REIGNS  IN  B 

"Hello,  there's  mother!"  he  said,  as  the  old  lady  was 
making  her  way  to  embrace  her  son.  When  they  met  he 
lifted  her  off  her  feet,  and  hugged  and  kissed  her  until  tears 
of  joy  welled  up  in  her  eyes. 

''How's  pa?"  he  asked. 

*'He  is  fairly  well,  and  wanted  to  come  and  meet  you, 
but  I  wouldn't  let  him.  You  know  he  has  a  difficulty  in 
walking. ' ' 

"That's  right,  mother.  You  always  took  good  care  of 
him."    The  old  lady  smiled  at  the  compliment. 

"I  want  you  to  come  over  to  my  house,"  remarked 
Howard.    "Rachel  has  prepared  a  little  lunch." 

Hill  looked  at  his  mother.  "What  say  you,  mother? 
Will  you  excuse  me  for  about  an  hour?" 

"Yes,  you  can  go,  but  don't  stay  long — your  father  is 
anxious  to  see  you." 

"Then  you  excuse  me  to  him  and  you  can  tell  him  that 
I  am  O.  K.  and  considerably  improved  since  he  saw  me  last." 

Rachel  Howard  stood  at  the  door  waiting  the  coming 
of  a  welcome  guest.  When  Hill  reached  her  he  extended  his 
hand. 

"Well,  Rachel,"  he  said,  "how  are  you?"  Her  face 
lit  up  with  pleasure  as  she  extended  her  hand  to  the  big, 
brawny  man,  who  looked  the  picture  of  health  and  vigor. 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Hill." 

"What!  have  you  forgotten  my  name  already?  I  used 
to  be  Bob  in  the  old  days." 

"Yes,  or  Robert,"  she  said,  flushing,  "but  now  you  are 
a  big  man." 

"Yes,  Racliel,  and  you're  a  young  lady.  Hence  the 
reserve." 

She  led  the  way  to  the  dining  room,  where  a  substantial 
spread  awaited  their  guest. 


PEACE  REIGNS  IN  B 321 

"This  seems  to  be  made  to  measure,"  remarked  Bob, 
looking  over  the  well-supplied  table.     "Who's  the  cook?" 

"I  am,"  Rachel  blurted  out  without  a  thought. 

"Then  you  deserve  a  diploma,"  he  said,  smiling  at  her. 

She  colored  up,  and  her  brother  Matt  laughed  at  her 
discomfiture. 

During  the   meal  the  two   men   chatted   freely.   Matt 

about  happenings  in  B while  Hill  was  away,  and  Hill 

in  turn  gave  some  of  his  experiences  during  his  travels. 
Rachel,  an  interested  listener,  was  seemingly  absorbed  in 
Hill's  narrative. 

At  the  parting  Hill  held  Rachel's  hand  in  his  while  he 
looked  into  her  eyes.  She  gazed  at  him  in  admiration.  Bob 
would  have  liked  to  kiss  her,  but  Matt  stood  in  the  way. 
So  he  refrained. 

At  the  Hill  homestead  there  was  a  general  jollification. 
The  proverbial  fatted  calf  had  been  killed,  but  not  for  a 
wayward  son.  Mr.  Robinson  and  other  neighbors  came  in 
to  shake  hands  with  the  illustrious  traveler  and  pass  a  few 
complimentary  remarks,  welcoming  him  home.  Bob  Hill's 
spirit  M^as  jubilant.  He  joked  with  the  girls,  and  thanked 
the  men  for  their  kindly  expressions.  Father  and  mother 
had  little  to  say.  They  feasted  their  eyes  on  their  stalwart 
son  and  hung  on  every  word  he  said  till  late  in  the  evening. 
The  following  morning  Hill  was  the  first  man  at  the 
mill.  He  inspected  the  machinery  and  found  every  thing 
in  working  order,  tapped  his  brother  Bill  on  the  shoulder 
and  complimented  him  on  his  excellent  management.  Mr. 
Robinson  came  in  and  his  first  expression  was  to  inquire 
what  Bob  was  doing  around  there  today. 

"I  was  just  looking  over  things  to  see  if  everything  was 
all  right." 

"Never  better,"  remarked  Robinson,  cheerfully.    "You 


322  PEACE  REIGNS  IN  B 

will  have  to  look  to  your  laurels,  or  Bill  will  get  away  with 
them,"  smiling  at  Bob's  younger  brother,  who  stood  de- 
murely aside. 

Bob  smiled  his  approval  of  his  brother's  ability. 

"I'll  want  the  use  of  a  dray  today,"  said  Hill,  address- 
ing Mr,  Robinson.  "The  tombstone  I  have  had  made  to  put 
on  our  lot  will  be  in  this  afternoon." 

"Help  yourself,  Bob,"  was  Robinson's  answer.  "You 
know  what  you  need." 

"I  have  the  dimensions  for  the  foundation,  and  I  will 
have  to  get  the  masons  to  work,  so  I'll  leave  you  for  the 
present. ' ' 

"Can  I  be  of  any  service  to  you?"  inquired  Robinson, 
as  he  was  leaving. 

"You  can  come  around  when  we  are  getting  it  on  the 
truck  and  give  your  advice." 

Robert  Hill  soon  had  willing  workers,  and  the  founda- 
tion was  laid  in  accordance  with  his  instructions. 

The  massive  stone  lay  on  a  flat  car  in  the  freight  depot. 
It  was  covered  with  strong  canvas  and  a  wooden  casing  so 
as  to  prevent  it  from  being  chipped  in  transit.  The  strong- 
est truck  belonging  to  the  mill,  with  four  powerful  per- 
cherons,  were  there  to  haul  it.  A  number  of  the  friends  and 
neighbors  were  interested  lookers  on,  among  them  Matt 
Howard  and  Mr.  Robinson.  Hill  himself  superintended  the 
transfer  from  the  flat  car  to  the  truck.  He  saw  that  it  was 
first  carefully  jacked  up,  then  sturdy  beams  put  under  it, 
on  which  rollers  were  placed.  Robert  then  had  strong  ropes 
attached  to  the  massive  stone  and  hitched  around  a  con- 
venient post,  so  that  it  could  not  possibly  get  away  from 
them  while  running  down  the  incline  between  the  flat  car 
and  the  truck.  When  all  was  arranged  to  his  satisfaction 
he  seized  a  jack  and,  mounting  the  car  in  which  it  stood, 


PEACE  REIGNS  IN  B 323 

looked  back  at  Mr.  Robinson,  who  had  the  rope  hitched 
around  the  post. 

"Now  look  out,  Mr.  Robinson,"  he  said,  and,  giving 
the  jack  a  few  turns  so  as  to  give  the  massive  stone  a  start, 
it  slid  down  gently  on  the  rollers  while  Mr.  Robinson  slack- 
ened the  rope. 

''Well  done,  Bob!"  exclaimed  his  crowd  of  admirers, 
when  they  saw  the  ponderous  mass  of  granite  planted  evenly 
and  firmly  on  the  two  pieces  of  lumber  which  rested  on  the 
truck,  elevating  the  tombstone  so  as  to  permit  ropes  to  be 
placed  under  it  while  being  lifted  to  the  foundation  pre- 
pared to  receive  it. 

On  a  start  being  made  for  the  graveyard  the  crowd 
followed,  increasing  as  they  went  along,  Rachel  Howard 
among  them.  Robert  Hill,  seeing  her,  went  toward  her,  and 
walked  by  her  side.  Arriving  at  the  graveyard,  there  was 
a  considerable  group  there  in  advance,  among  them  Hill's 
father  and  mother  and  most  of  the  members  of  the  Hill  and 
Howard  families. 

The  horses  hauling  the  load  went  gallantly  along  till 
they  reached  the  graveyard.  When  they  struck  a  soft  place 
on  the  sod,  one  of  the  hind  wheels  of  the  truck  sank  in  the 
soft  earth  and  the  horses  were  unable  to  move  it.  The 
driver  plied  his  whip,  and  shouted  to  his  horses,  but  it  was 
of  no  avail.  Mr.  Robinson  took  the  whip  from  the  driver 
to  flog  the  horses  into  making  a  further  effort. 

"Excuse  me,  Rachel,"  said  Hill,  leaving  her  side. 

"Wait  a  moment,"  signaling  to  the  driver,  who  was 
still  shouting  to  his  horses  to  gid  up.  "Bring  me  some  of 
those  planks,"  addressing  the  onlookers,  pointing  to  a  pile 
of  lumber  that  was  some  little  distance  away.  On  the  planks 
being  brought,  he  placed  some  of  them  in  position  to  rest 
a  jack  on  and  lift  the  sunken  end  of  the  truck.    This  done, 


324  PEACE  REIGNS  IN  B 

he  placed  a  stout  plank  for  the  wheel  to  run  on  and  gave  the 
signal  to  the  driver  to  go  ahead.  The  driver  shouted  to  his 
horses,  which  started  off  at  a  run. 

''Keep  them  going!"  roared  Bob,  who  ran  behind  the 
truck.  No  further  mishap  occurred  on  the  way  to  Martha's 
grave,  where  shear  legs  were  all  ready  in  position  to  lift  the 
stone  from  the  truck  to  the  foundation  ready  to  receive  it. 

The  mason  stood  by  to  see  to  the  proper  placing  and 
squaring  of  the  stone.  In  a  brief  time  the  ropes  were  at- 
tached, the  stone  hoisted  and  swung  until  it  was  over  its 
resting  place.  The  mason  gave  orders  to  lower  it  slowly, 
he  steadying  and  guiding  it  into  place.  After  making  some 
little  alteration  in  the  leveling,  he  gave  the  signal  to  lower, 
and  the  monument  placed  to  the  memory  of  Martha  Hill 
rested  firml}^  on  its  bed. 

The  mason  with  his  hammer  broke  off  tlie  lumber  placed 
to  protect  the  corners  and  nothing  but  the  canvas  cover 
remained.  It  was  so  attached  that  the  pulling  of  a  string 
would  loosen  it  so  as  to  fall  below  the  base. 

Robert  Hill  was  seen  escorting  Rachel  Howard  to  where 
the  string  was  attached.  He  stood  by  while  she  pulled  the 
cord,  the  canvas  fell  as  arranged,  and  the  magnificent  tomb- 
stone was  in  plain  view. 

A  buzz  of  approval  could  be  heard.  "  It 's  magnificent ! '  * 
said  some;  "Splendid!"  said  others  as  they  surged  forward 
to  read  the  inscription.  "She  was  well  worthy  of  it,"  said 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Peterson,  who  was  an  interested  spectator. 

It  was  a  beautiful  summer's  day.  The  sun  shone  reful- 
gent in  the  heavens.  All  nature  seemed  to  have  been  inter- 
ested in  making  the  day  and  the  surroundings  pleasant  and 
harmonious. 

The  birds  in  the  trees  warbled  as  if  in  jubilation. 


Ix     All'.MOKIAM 


PEACE  REIGNS  IN  B 325 

The  flowers  on  the  graves  were  in  full  bloom,  but  no 
grave  in  all  the  cemetery  had  so  rare,  so  profuse,  or  so 
beautiful  a  display  as  that  which  adorned  the  resting  place 
of  Martha  Hill. 

It  took  long  for  the  crowd  to  disperse,  as  all  were  eager 
to  read  the  inscription  on  the  stone. 

Rachel  Howard  went  and  sat  on  an  adjacent  tomb. 
"Woman-like  she  had  to  shed  a  few  tears.  At  length  none 
remained  but  she  and  Robert.  Many,  knowing  the  friend- 
ship between  them,  retired  out  of  respect,  until  at  length 
they  were  alone.  Hill,  seeing  her  seated,  went  and  sat 
beside  her. 

"What  do  you  think  of  it,  Rachel?"  he  inquired. 

"  It 's  beautiful, ' '  she  answered,  placing  her  handker- 
chief to  her  eyes. 

"I  am  satisfied,"  he  said.  "There  is  now  only  one 
thing  on  earth  I  crave  for." 

"What  is  that,  Robert?" 

"Yourself." 

She  placed  her  arm  around  his  neck,  he  drew  her  toward 
him  and,  in  an  ardent  embrace,  fervently  kissed  her  more 
than  willing  lips. 


PC 

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